


The Tale of Knight Deadpool and Prince Spiderman

by thunder_lizards



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Timeline Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Friendship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Kid-fic to high school-fic to reunion-fic, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Work In Progress, friends when we were kids!au, mentions of abuse, now we don't remember each!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4405652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_lizards/pseuds/thunder_lizards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The mighty and heroic Knight Deadpool is riding on his very mighty and noble horse. He’s going to rescue the beautiful and elegant prince Spiderman, who has been trapped by a mighty dragon. </em> </p><p>“I don’t get why I have to be the princess,” Peter mumbles. </p><p> </p><p>Wade is six years old and Peter is five and they are next door neighbours. They are forced to play together, because Wade’s parents are fighting and Aunt May had promised to take care of Mrs. Wilson's son in situations like this.</p><p>/or the one where Wade and Peter are childhood friends but then Wade's family get deported back to Canada. Their life goes on and time flies by. But it was never in fate's intention to just be childhood memories</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knight Deadpool and Prince Spiderman - 1999

**Author's Note:**

> {Yellow Box} [White Box] (Wade's or the writer's input)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm recently got my writer-juice flowing after "TGFWW" and so now I'm presenting this little piece of work. But I am going to be making this into a long fic with CHAPTERS! *gasps!*
> 
> So here, have the beginning of a fic, that hopefully will turn out like I'm planning

_The mighty and heroic Knight Deadpool is riding on his very mighty and noble horse. He’s going to rescue the beautiful and elegant prince Spiderman, who has been trapped by a mighty dragon._

“I don’t get why I have to be the princess,” Peter mumbles. He’s sitting on top of his closet with the stuffed dragon doll next to him, which Wade has named Bob.

“Because last time we played, you got to be a superhero and I was a villain,” Wade cheers as he jumps around on the hobbyhorse he has borrowed from Peter.

“Yeah, but you wanted to be a villain!” Peter pouts.

Wade is six years old and Peter is five and they are next door neighbours. They are forced to play together, because Wade’s parents are fighting and Aunt May had promised to take care of Mrs. Wilson's son in situations like this. Fortunately the boys gets along - sometimes.

“Just – shut up, and wait for me to come rescue you!” Wade exclaims and jumps higher.

_The mighty knight Deadpool arrives at the tower where young prince Spiderman is being kept._

_“Spiderman, oh Spiderman. Let fall your golden locks,” Knight Deadpool calls out in a sing-song voice._

“I don’t have golden locks,” Peter frowns and tucks at his very brown hair. Yep, defiantly not golden.

“Just- ugh – cast down the rope,” Wade sighes. It’s so hard to play with some who doesn’t understand his very clever references.

_The beautiful golden locks of Spiderman’s hair tumbles out of the single window of the tower. Knight Deadpool grabs them and starts climbing the tower. But he hasn’t gone more than a few meters up, before the hair comes tumbling down and Knight Deadpool falls to the ground._

“Ouchie,” Wade exclaims, as he lands on this back. Apparently Peter wasn’t strong enough to carry the weight of him, when he started climbing up the rope. It’s more out of shock than of hurt that he starts crying.

“WADE!” Peter yells and quickly climbs down the closet to get the crying boy.

“Are you okay?” Peter doesn’t know what to do. He should probably get Aunt May, but he feels it would be rude to leave Wade alone.

“It- it- *sob* - HU-URTS,” Wade cries. Really he’s being a big baby, and he’s dad would yell at him for crying. And probably hit him after that.

But Peter sticks his hand out to Wade, who startled and still crying – though he’s starting to calm down – takes it, sniffling. Huffing, Peter pulls him to his feet.

“Where does it hurt?” Peter commands to know.

Wade sniffles again and then points a thumb over his shoulder at his back. Peter turns the other boy around and lifts up in his shirt.

Wade’s back, like the rest of him, is covered in bruises and little cuts. Wade has told Peter that it’s just because he plays wild and he falls a lot, and really it’s his own fault. But Peter has heard Aunt May telling Uncle Ben that it’s because Wade’s dad is “an abusive asshole and he’s hurting both the boy and his wife”. Peter had only heard this because he woke up one night after nightmare, and found Aunt May and Uncle Ben in the kitchen. He didn’t go in to them.

Peter asses the place that he supposes is where Wade landed. It doesn’t look all bad – not in comparison to some of the other bruises Wade has.

Gently, Peter blows on the bruise that is starting to show. Then, like Aunt May always does when Peter has a boo-boo, Peter kisses the bruise.

“There, there,” Peter smiles and pulls Wade shirt down again. “All better.”

Wade turns around to face Peter, a confused look on his face.

“What was that for?” he asks, not sure that what just happened was real.

“I kissed the boo-boo away. Aunt May always does that for me, so I figured that’s what you do with bruises. Did it help?” Peter’s smile turns into a concerned look, which really looks quite ridiculous on the five-year-old’s young face.

Absently, Wade nods. His mother or father has never kissed his boo-boos away and this concept is completely foreign to him. But he’s not going to deny that he does feel better now.

Peter’s face lights up and a big grin spreads on his features.

“Do you wanna continue playing?” Peter asks, getting ready to climb up the closet again.

Sniffling, Wade nods and picks up the toy sword he dropped during the fall.

 _After a minor set-back, the mighty Knight Deadpool continues the climb, though this time just trusting the (_ “Chairs! Use the chairs, Wade!” Peter calls from the top of the closet _) trees that surrounds the tower._

_When he gets to the window and crawls in, he bravely defeats the dragon, by the name Bob, and claims the – now bald – prince Spiderman._

_“Where’s my reward?” Knight Deadpool asks._

“Your reward?” Peter asks.

“Yeah, don’t knights get rewards then they save the target in need?” Or has Wade been getting these fairytales allwrong?

Peter considers this for a while. Then his face lights up.

“I got it!” he exclaims.

_The beautiful prince Spiderman smiles at the mighty Knight Deadpool and leans in to place a kiss the knight's cheek._

_“There you go, my heroic savoir,” prince Spiderman says and starts to climb out of the window of the tower._

“Are you coming?” Peter asks as he climbs down the closet and starts heading towards the door. Wade is still sitting on the top of the closet, seemingly stunned.

“Wade?” Peter looks up at the other boy. Blinking, Wade seems to return to the present.

“Yeah?” he looks down at Peter, who’s looking at him, concern creasing his forehead.

“Are you coming? I think Aunt May has made cookies,” he says and gestures towards the door.

“COOKIES!” In the blink of an eye Wade is down from the closet and running out of the door.

Smiling and shaking his head, Peter follows him, closing the door behind him.

This is the last time Peter and Wade play together.

A week later Wade and his family moves back to Canada. Apparently Wade’s dad’s visa ran out and now they have to go back.

Peter watches through the windows as Wade carries his few stuff out of the house and into their beat-up car. Wade looks toward Peter’s window and they make eye contact through the glass. Peter lifts his hand to wave at the other boy. Wade raises his hand to do the same, but then his dad comes out of the house and starts yelling at him.

Peter doesn’t see Wade again. 

 

At least not before Wade has turned twenty-two and Peter twenty-one and they are both standing on a rooftop in the middle of New York. Also they are both now wearing spandex. And Wade is bleeding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read this piece! And even more so, to the people that has left kuedoes and comments. They warm my heart and inspires me to go on!
> 
> The next chapter will be written soon but I don't know when it will be up. I have a convention to go to - where I will be cosplaying the merc himself - and after that work for a week. But I promise that I will get back to you with updates as frequently as I can manages!


	2. It's Origin Time, Folks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In years the follows the Wilson family's move back to Canada, the boys slowly starts to forget each other and growing in their separate directions.  
> Peter's takes him through some gloomier parts of his life that he'll always live with, but they only helps setting his mind at ease with what he's doing.  
> Wade's, on the other hand, is just a spiral going down and down, and tears his fragile mind to shreds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know. Everyone is tired of origin stories.  
> But really this is just to get the guys timelines figured out and also so we're all clear what's going on in which lives.  
> (I'm so sorry if you think that I have messed to much around with the different origins, but I'm working on quite limited time with these guys. There's not much room to roam with)
> 
> Also I haven't had the time to proof read everything, but w/e. I'll do it late, promise

# Origin/; Peter Parker – Fulltime Busy

 

The years following his next-door-neighbour’s move thing are quiet for Peter Parker. He starts elementary-school, then middle-school and later high-school.

At the age 12, 2005, Peter gets his first Polaroid camera. This is the way that Peter discovers his talent for photography. After having it for a year it has already been used quite a lot and his room is covered in different pictures.

All the way through Peter excels and impresses especially in science and bio-chemistry. But of course everything is all good. And being gifted with an academic mind isn’t always enough.

Peter gets bullied. He doesn’t know exactly how it starts, but one day the other kids are laughing behind his back and he doesn’t know why.

Peter isn’t great at making friends. Actually he doesn’t really have any for most of his years in school. Then he meets Harry Osborn, and he becomes Peter’s first friend since some kid Peter once knew when he was 5.

Later Peter meets Gwen Stacy then he starts high school in 2009. He falls in love with her at first sight – which some might find romantic, other might find this creepy.

At age 16 – 2011 – Peter is taking pictures at a science exhibit for safely use of radioactive materials and their uses. During the exhibit a spider got in one of the particles accelerators. Before dying of the radiation it bit Peter.

Peter unknowing of what bit him shrugs it off as he leaves the exhibit. But he soon realizes that something is seriously wrong. On his way home he experiences some weird headaches and he’s almost run over by a car. Almost, being the keyword here. Because before the car can collide with him, Peter jumps high up in the air and sticks to a nearby building. In shock, he falls off and runs home.

{Blah, blah, the readers already know all this! Is it really necessary to recap EVERYTHING?}

[Shush! We don’t even exist yet! And it’s important to set the timeline straight]

{HA! Like this story is anywhere NEAR straight!}

\- Well –

Peter goes through the series of discoveries about his new abilities. First it’s the accelerated speed and strength. Then the tiny hairs that grows on his fingers and toes, making him able to climb EVERYWHERE – which results in hanging from the ceiling of his bedroom, trying not to squeal like an excited kid and end up waking Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

The next day is spent still discovering his new abilities and just showing of a tiny bit in front of everyone else. And Peter really can’t help it if he ends up making Flash Thomson look just a bit like a fool in front of everyone else. It just sorta happens. One minute he’s in PE trying, where they are apparently trying out wrestling for the first time. So then Flash has beaten everyone down and is parading around the ring about how he is unbeatable, Peter can’t help himself.

“COME ON! IS THERE NO ONE WHO CAN BEAT ME?! ANYONE?!” Flash grins as he walks around in the ring, his arms raised high.

“I’ll do it,” Peter finds himself saying.

Everyone in the gym hall turns to look at him, staring wide eyed. Harry and Gwen are both making gestures for him to cut it out, but Peter just smirks.

“WHAT? Puny-Parker? You gotta be kidding!”

“I’ll do it, Flash. Unless, of course, you’re afraid you’re going to get your butt kicked?”

The whole gym erupts in laughter.

“Bring it on, Puny Parker!”

Peter climbs up into the ring and the coach declares the fight started.

Flash goes straight away for getting Peter in the first go, but Peter ducks away from him. Stumbled Flash turns around and tries to find Peter again.

When he sees that Peter is quite unharmed, his faces clouds and he charges at Peter again. This time Peter takes the hit and for a moment they stand there, Flash trying to wrestle Peter to the floor, Peter just holding back a laugh. When Peter decides to try out his new skills and quite literally flips Flash over.

The whole gym falls silent. Everyone is stunned. Peter turns around to face the rest of the class not knowing whether to be excited or surprised. He’s about to start climbing down from the ring, when a weird tingle in his head startles him. He’s so surprised by it, that he doesn’t realizes before its too late that Flash is coming at him from behind. He manages to turn his head around, just as Flash tackles him to the ground. The coach breaks them up and declares the fight over, Flash being the winning party.

This is how Peter discovers his new abilities and comes up with a genius plan about he can use these abilities for his own gain.

He comes up with a name – something he had forgotten, something hidden away in his childhood memoirs – and decides to start pro-wrestling. This way he can help out Aunt May and Uncle Ben, who has been having a hard time making things go around lately. He even makes a suit, just because that’s what pro-wrestlers do, right? So Spiderman takes the wrestling stage.

One night, in the fall of 2011, – Peter having turned 17 – the guy who’s been paying Peter when he wins matches suddenly decides to take what he calls “his part”. This turns out to be over half the money that Peter’s been making on wrestling. So when some robber breaks in and steals from the bastard, Peter doesn’t try and stop him. Instead he lets him pass. Thinking nothing more about it, Peter leaves the scene.

But coming out of the building getting ready to go home, a shooting erupts somewhere down the street. Peter runs towards it, only to see the same robber fleeing the scene, where an elderly man lays bleeding out on the sidewalk.

Recognizing the man, Peter runs to his uncle. He’s bleeding out. Peter won’t know this until later, but Ben Parker had been following Peter to see where he goes every night. Apparently Ben had seen the robber and had decided to stop him, not realizing that he had a gun. Ben is shot in stomach and bleeds out on that sidewalk, Peter holding him in his arms, crying for help.

Obsessed with revenge Peter puts on his suit – now upgraded from the cheap mask to the real deal, spandex and all – he roams the night. First he’s just looking for the guy that killed Ben, but then he starts getting involved in stopping other crimes.

He slowly starts getting recognized in the media, people using the name that Peter had used as an alias when wrestling, and Spiderman is now on the front page of different news papers – the Daily Bugle, lead by J.J. Jameson, being one of them. The police takes a notices of him as well calling him a vigilante and a menace – which is something they got from the Daily Bugle to be sure – and don’t look to friendly upon him.

Then Spiderman finally finds the guy who killed Uncle Ben, he is tempted to throw him off of a rooftop and make him pay for what he did.

But he hesitates. Uncle Ben wouldn’t want this. This is the opposite of what Uncle Ben would want of him and, oh god, what was he thinking.

Instead of just throwing him off the roof, Peter hangs him from his feet on a nearby crane and makes an anonyms tip to the authorities as to where they can find him.

This is the beginning of Spiderman, and the events that follow aren’t all cheery and chipper.

Many villains start to turn up and suddenly the whole fate of New York seems to be lying on Spiderman’s shoulders, even though the press keeps referring to as a menace and a freak. His number one anti-fan keeps switching between villain-of-the-month and the owner of the Daily Bugle.

And the whole affair with the Bugle only gets more ironic. Peter – mostly as a private joke with himself – sends in photos he has taken of himself wearing the suit, which ends up getting J.J. Jameson’s attention and lands Peter a job as a photographer.

So really both Peter and Spiderman are busy as it is. Being a student, a nephew, a photographer and a vigilante by night can turn out to be quite tiring. The last thing Peter needs right now is more trouble in his life.

 

 

# Origin/; Wade Wilson – The Trouble to Your Hellfire

After him and his family has been deported back to Canada things just start going downhill for Wade. When his mother dies of cancer in 2002 – Wade is 9 – things get really gloomy. Before her death he had been a little calmer and could brush things off more easily. But now, with his dad drinking his brains out every night and hitting him twice as hard, Wade gains the urge to rebel where he can.

In school, Wade learns quite quickly that the other kids are not like him. First of all they are not as dirty or beat up as him. Second of all, they seem to be better than Wade at everything.

Wade’s schedule is one he slowly comes to hate. Wake up before his dad wakes, eat whatever is in the fridge, and then hurry out the door, the old man still sleeping. He’ll sit waiting for the buss to pick him up for an hour or so, and then he’ll be sitting as far away from the others as possible to avoid stares and fingers pointed in his direction.

In school he’ll try to listen as best as he can, but it’s hard then the other kids seems to be laughing at something, and he believes – he feels – that surely, it must be him.

Wade doesn’t make many friends in school. The only friends he sorta makes are the kids that he gains respect from through fighting. Which as it turns out, he’s quite good at.

After years of being handed punches from his father – always covered up in front of others, so they won’t question it – Wade has picked up a thing or two about throwing a punch.

Slowly, Wade starts losing interest in school-work and gets more interested in what he can gain through his fist.

In 2003, Wade gets in a fight that is so bad, that the cops are being called and he gets put in police custody. There he spends a night, huddled in the corner, thinking of better times; the streets of New York, the warm kitchen of the family next-door, the games and fun he had with that kid – what was his name again? – and Wade misses it. He wishes so badly to go back to New York, for even though he’s father still was a jerk and an asshole, things had seemed better back then. His mother had been alive, which had lessen some of his father’s drinking, and he had had an actual friend.

The years go by and in 2008 Wade makes friends with a ring of criminals. Wade is only 15, but he grew up with an abusive asshole of a father, so drinking as a method of mending his mind seems fine to him.

During that year things becomes foggy and there’s a lot of crimes committed and nights in police custody. These nights are spent sober and thinking of better times. Sometimes Wade promises himself to quit it all and just leave, and never look back. But then morning comes and he starts all over again.

In 2009, in a moment of soberness from his father side, Mr Wilson comes to the bar that Wade is currently frequenting with his “friends”. His father, in his own holy soberness, tries to convince Wade to stop what he’s doing to himself. In the fight that breaks out afterwards, Wade’s dad is killed by a bullet that one of Wade’s friends put in his brain.

Wade doesn’t attend the funeral, which is hold for the ex-militant. What he does though is going to his father’s grave days later and pisses on it.

“Got what you deserved, you bastard!” Wade yells at the gravestone, tears slipping down his face. Wade has no family left, and it feels like it’s all his fault.

 In pursue for redemption, Wade joins the army the same year, faking his records to gain access at the age of only 16.

A year goes by, and then Wade tires of army’s strict ways, and quits in 2010. At the age of 17, Wade starts his carrier as a mercenary. He travels all across the world, taking what job pays the best, though he always tries to pick the cleanest ones for his mind shake. Whenever he fails a job he runs and tries to cover his tracks as best as he can.

In 2011, after a job, where he spent quite some time undercover as a sumo wrestler, he refuses to take out a target for the first time. This leads to Wade returning to New York for the first time in 11 years and set up an apartment.

During a job that he does for some fancy government – Middle East or something like that – where he is sent to kill some blind British agent or something like that he apparently fucks up.  He fucks up so badly that they send someone to kill his girlfriend. But since Wade doesn’t have a girlfriend – because Vanessa doesn’t really fit in so well with the timeline and all, which really is a shame – those guys fail quite badly. But they do mess up Wade’s place in New York, which makes him re-evaluate his current situation. So Wade returns to Canada

In 2012, at the age of 19, Wade discovers that he has contracted brain cancer. It’s terminal.

At loss at what to do, Wade finds himself seeking hope in the DepartmentK, which is apparently a branch of the Canadian government. Here he finds himself subject to different experiments of DepartmentK’s under branch, The Weapon X Program, which is a superhuman enhancement project.

Wade finds himself upgraded with a special healing factor, which the program got from some other test subject – Logan or something. Wade didn’t really pay attention to details, only the fact that he could maybe be healed of his cancer. But something goes wrong. Awfully wrong.

{Did somebody say crazily wrong?!}

[No, but we are being referred to, I think]

Wade wakes up with amnesia and boxes are appearing before his eyes, apparently having their own monologue based around him.

Because of his apparent unstable mind he’s rejected from Program X and sent to the Hospice.

{Which is a really awful time, and the readers are not interested in going through that now, are they?}

[Is this just the writer not wanting to mess up vital information and getting hate mail for messing with back stories?]

{You betcha it is!}

So skipping all the unfortunate events that happened between Weapon X and the Hospice, – in which it’s to be assumed that the scars came around somewhere along the line – Deadpool emerges in 2014.

“Aw yeah, baby. Deadpool is back in business and ready to fuck some shit up!”

This is the start of another around as a mercenary for Wade, but now taking Deadpool as a name.


	3. "Where's my reward?" - 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2015. Spiderman is battling some badies, which is pretty normal for the spider. But these badies turns out to be tougher than he thought. So really it's a blessing when help shows up. Except the blessing is a curse, because it's no other than Deadpool himself that has come to save the day.
> 
> The fateful reunion of the two red clad dorks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhhhhh! Look at this! Me, keeping my promise and delivering a new chapter!  
> Warning: this chapter contains blood and butts! You have been warned.
> 
> (also this is horribly unedited, and I'll edit it when I get some time and some snacks)

Spiderman is battling some badies. And not just regular badies. These are top of the class badies, mafia levels. Which should be more about skills and smart play, but that can be a job for the Avengers. Who he probably should have informed about this. But he sorta forgot. And really he can do this by himself, no problem. It just takes a little skill. Which Spiderman has plenty of.

But – this is not going as planned.

First of all, there’s a lot more badies than he expected. Second of all, they brought guns. He didn’t. Third of all his web-shooter is starting to run out. Typical.

So it’s really a blessing when some lunatic in a red and black suit shows up. Problem is; he brought guns as well. Also he’s seemingly not caring if he gets hit or not.

“Come at me boys! This hot piece of ass is so much juicier than that spider’s!” The guy yells. The badies already has their attention on him, seeing as he has guns which are blaring at them. But now they all charge at the guy at once.

“Yeah, come get me!” he yells and just cast his arms out, not defending himself at all.

“Watch out!” Spiderman calls, but it’s too late.

The badies are on the guy and he’s being holed like a Swiss cheese.

“Get your delicious butt out of here, Spidey-pie!” The voice comes from the direction of the holed red and black clad guy, but seeing as he is _holed_ that can’t be true. But Spiderman gets out of there anyway.

On the rooftop of the building next to the ally he was in, he turns, looking to see if the badies are coming after him. But on the ground the badies are still putting holes in the guy, who must have been some kind of crazy.

{Boy, is he right}

[Do I really have to keep reminding you, that it’s not our point of view?]

{Yeah, but my brilliant commentary is required!}

[*sigh*]

Wincing Spiderman looks away from the scene. This turns out to be a mistake, because suddenly things are happening pretty friggen fast.

One moment the guy is lying on the ground and the badies are lowering their guns. The next he’s on his feet and – _somehow_ – not holed at all and firing his guns at the badies. They all fall like flies one by one.

“YEAH! This is what I’m talking about!” The guy yells. Clearly he is insane. And this is impossible. Spiderman just saw him get shot to the ground and now he’s up and moving like it’s no big deal.

 _‘This merely a scratch’_ Spiderman thinks to himself, surprised by the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Hey, hot stuff!” The guy calls from the ground. “I think it’s safe to say that I nobly just saved your royally butt!”

Somewhere in Peter’s head a bell rings, though he can’t quite place his finger on it. A far off memory, forgotten, a relic from ancient times.

“Um, maybe another time, pal,” Spiderman calls out over his shoulder. He should really get to Stark Tower and check in with the other Avengers. Maybe actually inform them about the mafia thing. And maybe hear if they know anything about this lunatic.

“HEY!” Speak of the devil. Said lunatic is making his way up upon the roof. A pout – though Spiderman has no idea how he’s seeing that through the guy’s mask – is fully in place on his face.

“What kind of gratitude is that? Didn’t I just save your butt? Where’s my reward, man?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and sticks his cheek out.

“What?” Spiderman is utterly at loss. Why he has not yet left the rooftop is a mystery to him.

“My reward! You’re supposed to kiss me on the cheek! It’ll add to dramatic and very romantic – if not cliché – moment of victory!”

{AND reunion!}

[*sigh* Point of view? And we don’t even remember this, so really shut up]

“Um, no thanks?” It comes out a question, though really it is no to be questioned. Like there’s no way in hell he’s going to anywhere near that guy, because hell -

“Dude, you’re bleeding!” Spiderman exclaims. Really he shouldn’t be surprised. The guy did just get shot a couple of hundred times.

“What? This? _This merely a scratch_ ,” the guy states as he looks down at his stomach, which is bleeding heavily.

“Jinx,” Spiderman mumbles. This guy is insane.

“What?” The guy looks away from the bleeding, which is somehow slowly ceasing.

He has got to be some kind of mutant or have some sort of incredible healing factory. Wait, who’s got healing factories? He knows for a fact that there are a lot of other superheroes and – _unfortunately_ – super villains who have it. But he’s pretty sure that he knows most of them. He’s never heard of this guy. Is he some new comer? Or has Peter just been really out of touch with the rest of the superhero gang? Probably the last. Things have been hectic to say the least these past couple of _years_.

“Anyway, this will be healed up in no time, and be as good as new. Well not exactly. It’s sorta hard to be good as new with a body like mine. But I do have this pretty awesome healing factor,” (HA! He knew it!), “which makes my life a lot easier. Really you should have seen me before. I was quite the stud back in my days. But, ah, the past is in the past. And really I still got quite a blessed butt on me. But I must say, it can’t really compete with yours. Now there’s an ass to behold. But, ah look at that! It’s all fixed up and pretty! Well, not exactly pretty, but you catch my drift!” The guy is rambling, and really, Spiderman should take off while he has the chance, but suddenly the guy farts quite loudly.

After a moment of silence and intense starring between the two, Spiderman gets out a; “Bless you”, which makes the other guy crack up. After a moment’s hesitations, Spiderman joins in. Really this situation is ridiculous and it’s been a while since Peter has laughed like this.

“So, um, thank you,” Spiderman gets out between fits of laughing. “You really did save my butt back there.” Thinking back, Spiderman remembers quite exactly _how_ his butt was saved. “But next, limit the killing, okay?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it!” The guy gets out, still laughing, but it’s quieting down. “I don’t think I un-alived all of them. Some are merely _sliced_ a little. AND – they were badies.”

“That doesn’t really matter, pal. Killing just makes you as bad as them.” Spiderman is serious now. This is quite the quick change in the mood, and frankly Peter already misses the easy laughing.

“Oh,” the guy leans forward, pointing a finger at himself. “What if I’m already _badder_ than them?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows – which again, Spiderman shouldn’t be able to see because the guy is wearing that mask.

“Um,” Spiderman slowly takes a step back. “Anyways – I’ve got this thing that I have to - ” he points over his back, trying hard not to seem to frantic to get away.

“Ah, what?! The bonding moment is over?! Already?!” Now the guy is pouting again.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Why is he smiling? Why is Peter smiling under the mask? He’s facing down some lunatic, who just killed some heavily armed mafia members, who SHOT him, but that didn’t really seem to leave that huge of an imprint on the guy. In fact he just shrugged it off like it was nothing. And now Peter is smiling? What is going on?

It’s the shock. It’s got to be the shock, right? That’s the only explanation.

Spiderman runs to the edge of the building ready to set off, web-shooter pointed towards the rooftop. Everything is going smoothly, until he realizes that he is out of web-fluid. Well, fuck.

Spiderman tumbles to ground. Head first and everything, it’s quite elegant and very not ridiculous to behold.

Before his face collides with the ground, Spiderman grabs for a handhold. This only ends in him getting turned around, so now it’s not his face that will collide first, but his back.

“SPIDEY!” The guy cries out as his gaze follows the falling spider, that heavily lands on his back and gets knocked unconscious.

“Well, shit,” Deadpool mumbles.

[Now what do we do?]

{UGH! I KNOW! I KNOW! Let’s bring him home with us and keep him forever and ever!}

[Well, no. Any other plans?]

“Yellow might be right though. We can’t exactly leave the guy here. And since we don’t know where he lives, it might be better to just bring him home with us,” Deadpool argues to the boxes. Yellow is bouncing up and down excitedly, while White is just sighing rather dramatically.

So Deadpool jumps down from the rooftop and lands of the fire escape stairs of the building, and makes his way down to ground level. There, he assesses the situation.

Spiderman is totally unconscious, that much is for sure. Unless he just lets Deadpool put his whole face right up in his personal space, but Deadpool doubts that.

Elegantly – or rather with a little trouble and some flailing limbs – he picks Spiderman up, first going for over the shoulder, then trying to put him around his back – which the katanas sorta makes impossible to do. In the end Deadpool ends up carrying him in a bridal style, which really he should have started out with.

“Hey ho, let’s go,” Deadpool sing-songs to himself and climbs up the fire escape again and onto the rooftop. From there the route is just straight to Deadpool apartment, which – thankfully – isn’t far away.

“Well, damn, Baby Boy, you’re a lot heavier than you look,” Deadpool mumbles to the still very unconscious Spiderman. “Ah, but with a face like yours it’s totally worth it!”

[You can’t even see this face]

{Yeah, but that mask is really cute and I betcha that it’s hiding something even cuter!}

[As opposed to ours]

“Well, we’re a rare beauty, best kept hidden from the rest of the world.”

{True, true. No one would be able handle our “exotic” look}

[Mostly because it will make them want to scratch their eyes out]

{But we do got a booty that rocks}

“Yeah, but our booty is nothing compared to Spidey’s. I mean have you _seen_ that thing? Hot damn.”

{I bet not even the Greek gods has as fine a booty as this one}

[Would you guys stop? You’re making me nauseas]

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Wade pouts at the box, but both him and Yellow keeps quiet for the rest of the trip about the magnificent of the Spider-booty.

“Ah, home sweet home,” Wade exhales as he lands on the rooftop of his building. It’s an almost abandoned and worn down building, and it’s a wonder that it hasn’t come down on itself yet. But it’s quiet and no one comes looking for him here and no one asks any questions.

Wade enters the building through the rooftop door and down the stairs onto the top floor, where his apartment is situated. It’s the only apartment in use up here – or on the first 5 floors – so there’s quiet and no one ever comes up here. The only other residents in the building, which Wade knows about, are some old Hispanic lady and some homeless youths. From times to times Wade “accidently” drops some money on their floor.

He’s not much older than them, and he remembers what it was like to not have a stable income. The last thing he wants is for those guys to end up like him. Though he supposes that they won’t end up submitting themselves to a superhuman program just to escape.

Banging the door to his door open, Wade enters the slightly stinking apartment. Really he should have cleaned in here, but really he couldn’t be bothered. But since he now has a guest maybe he should sweep some of the dust away. Maybe.

“Well, Spidey, I am so glad that you decide to come join me for a late night snack,” he says to the lifeless spider in his arms, who seems to be sleeping now.

Gently – {Whoa, since when are we doing things gently?} [Since we got an armful of Spiderman], – he places Spiderman on the couch, which is probably the cleanest surfaces expect for his bed.

{Uh, we should totally take Spidey to bed!}

[No, you idiot. We gotta have the whole romantic build up first]

{Pfst, you really are no fun}

“Guys. Look how cute he is!” Wade cuts off the argument that is sure to break out between the boxes. The boxes get quiet long enough for all of them to agree – even White – that Spiderman does look extremely cute then he’s sleeping.

{He would probably look even cuter without the mask!}

“Uh, that’s a great idea! Off with the mask it is!” Wade leans forward to pull the mask of the sleeping face of the spider. But just as he gets a finger underneath the edge of it, Spiderman’s hand leaps out and gets a hold of Wade’s wrist. Before he can catch up with what’s happening, Wade finds himself getting wiped over the back of the couch and is now lying facing away from the couch.

“Ouchie,” Wade mumbles.

[Guess the spider is awake again, then]

{That hurt our feelings!}

“What happened? Where am I?” A very flustered and rumbled Spiderman sticks his head over the back of the couch and takes in the scene of Deadpool lying on the floor rubbing his mask covered nose.

“Well, a ‘thank you’ wouldn’t hurt, princess.” Deadpool mumbles while at the same time checking if his jaw is still in its place.

“Answer me! Where am I?” Spiderman tries to get up and look threading, but fails quite miserably when he stumbles and lands right back on his butt again.

“Wow, wow, wow, easy there, Baby Boy!” Deadpool gets up from the floor and gets Spiderman seated again. “You are not ready to go anywhere, I’m afraid. You fell and hit your back quite hard, back there. Why don’t you just – um – sit for a while, eh?” Deadpool slowly lowers Spiderman back onto the couch, trying not to grab any parts that would implies something sexual at this moment. Not that he’s not up for it, but Spidey is pretty out of it right now, and that’s no good really.

“What you need right now is probably some sleep. Or some pain meds. Unless you have a healing factor. Do you have a healing factor?”

“Ugh, no. No healing factor. At least not anything as advanced as yours. So yeah, I’ll take the meds.” His head is killing him. He probably has a concussion or something like that. Damnit, this is so not what he needs right now.

“Alright, I can do that! Pain meds is something we got plenty of!” Deadpool gets up and hurries away going straight for the cupboards in the kitchen, which are stocked with pain meds.

“Alrighty, let’s see what we’ve got!” He says as he comes back into the living room where Spiderman is trying to sit up on the couch.

“Nah-ah, you lay back down, right this instance, young man. Let nurse Deadpool take care of this for you!” Damnit he should have gotten his nurse dress while he was away. Maybe he should get up and get it. But, nah, Spiderman looks too cute to be left alone.

“Deadpool?” That rings a bell somewhere in Peter’s head, but given that he probably has that concussion he can’t really be blamed for not being able to remember why.

“Ah, yes! Have you heard of me? I like to consider myself quite famous. Best in the business!”

“Business?” Peter is confused. He believes that he has heard of the name. Maybe the Avengers have talked about him. Yeah, that’s got to be it.

“What business are you talking about exactly?” Really this is some information Spiderman should have gotten right from the get to go.

“Well, the mercenary business of course! I don’t usual un-alive people just for the kicks of it. But given, sometimes un-aliving does make the job more interesting at times. But mostly it’s the money,” Deadpool sighs and stares of into the distance for a moment. “And well as a pro-merc I take quite high pays, so I mean the money is good. Like really friggen good. And you know, nothing is for free, so …”

While Deadpool had been rambling, Peter had pulled up his mask so it reveals his mouth and nothing more, so he could take the pain meds that Deadpool placed on the table. Really he had stopped listening after the word “mercenary”. It’s certain. This guy, Deadpool, is bad news and he should get the hell out of here. So he gets quite surprised then the guy suddenly stands up from the couch only to turn around and face Spiderman.

“What?” Wait, what did Peter miss here? The guy has been rambling and Peter just sorta cut it out, so he didn’t have to think too much about the bloody work of a mercenary. But now, something apparently changed in the guy’s monologue, which apparently results in him leaning into Peter’s personal space.

“My reward, Baby Boy!” Deadpool makes a gesture towards his face. “I saved your fancy butt, brought it home and un-alived those badies for you. And being a pro-merc and all, I can’t just do that for free. So – where’s my reward?”

“Um, I’m sorry I don’t have any money.” Being an underappreciated superhero isn’t exactly profitable.

Deadpool slows. The wheels inside his head seems to go from spinning a top speed to slow quite dramatically. Then, Peter swears that he sees a smirk starting to spread under the mask.

“Well,” Deadpool looks him up and down. Wait. Did he just give him the elevator look? Oh, no. He should get the hell out of here.

Deadpool slides closer to him, coming all up in his space, trapping Spiderman on the couch.

“There’s other ways you could pay me, Baby Boy.”

Oh god. What is happening? Deadpool is slowly lowering himself down so that his straddling Peter’s lap and he’s just getting closer and closer. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit_. This is so not happing. And really what’s going on with that smoulder look? That’s just not fair.

{Uh, look! We’re getting Spidey all hot and bothered!}

[Inappropriate boner, much?]

{More like Hella-friggen-appropriated boner!}

“Um, hold on just a sec -,” Peter tries to get out, but really it’s pure luck that he gets that much out, because suddenly he’s very much focused on the weight of Deadpool on top of him and the heat radiating from his body. And damn, that smoulder is just so not fair. It’s under a friggen mask, but it’s getting Peter’s blood to rush. And shit, why is it rushing?! And to where?! Nonononono, this can’t happen. Straight thoughts. Hetero things, come on, Peter is HETERO!

(Peter is so not hetero)

{[AUTHOR!!!]}

{The author is breaking the 4th wall now? I thought that was our job!}

[You can never be sure of anything these days]

Peter’s eyes goes to Deadpool’s still mask-covered mouth, wanting to – oh no, no, hetero. Hetero things, that’s the keyword here. Peter is hetero, and Deadpool is very clearly a guy.

Peter’s tongue comes out to wet his lips. Damn, no! Deadpool’s gaze tracks that motion through the mask. Shit, no, now his getting the wrong impression! Shit, no, gotta find a way to stop this! Shit, shit, _shit_.

“I-I-I’ve – I’ve got a – I’ve got a girlfriend,” Peter finally gets out. YES! That was very hetero of you Peter. High five to Peter Parker, the hetero-est guy to ever hetero!

Deadpool stills. When:

“You what?” The chock on his face is covered by the mask, but Peter can almost see his widen eyes.

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Peter repeats.

“Really?” Is that disbelief? Really? This guy was just about to … something, and now he doesn’t believe that Spiderman could have a girlfriend?

“Yeah, really!” Finally Peter gathers up his nerves and places a hand on Deadpool chest, meaning to push him off. But damn this guy is toned. Like, wow.

Deadpool looks down on the hand that is now placed on his chest, and Peter blushes under his mask.

“Could you…?” He ask, hoping that the little nudge he gives Deadpool’s chest will state his attention.

“Oh, yeah,” Deadpool, still a little stunned, and still seeming disbelieving, gets up from Peter’s lap and steps away.

“So, um,” Peter awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not sure what to do of himself. “I’ll just -” he gestures towards the window.

“Um, yeah, sure.” Deadpool seeming just as awkward as Peter just nods and turns to watch him climb out of the window.

“I’ll – see you around,” Peter awkwardly gets out. What? Why did he say that? He’s NOT going to be seeing this guy again. Not if he wants major cringe attacks that will keep him up at night.

“Yeah, right,” Deadpool mumbles, watching Spiderman leave through his window.

As soon as he knows that the other guy is out and gone he crumbles to the floor.

“THAT WAS TERRIBLE!” He grips the sides of his mask, frustration tearing through him. This has got to be one of the worst nights of his life. Well, maybe not, but most embarrassing nights anyway.

What was he thinking? Hitting on Spiderman? The guy is way out of his league and no way could he possible charm that guy.

{You said it}

[Really, we should just have left the guy on the ground. He would probably be much better of without us]

“Yeah, but that would kinda been rude, don’t you think? The guy fell and hurt himself pretty badly. No way he could make it home –” Deadpool stops in his own tracks. Hold on. Spiderman is probably still pretty out of it. And didn’t he take the pain meds?

“Oh shit,” Wade blurts out. “Oh shit!”

“SPIDEY!” Deadpool screams as he gets off of the floor as fast as he can and runs to the window.

He sticks his head out of the window, looking down towards the ground far below, for a smashed spider. From this far away and in the night’s dark he can’t see anything and that’s what gets Deadpool out of his window heading for the ground.

“DON’T WORRY, SPIDEY, I’LL COME SCRAP YOU OF THE GROUND!” He yells as falls through the air, charging straight for the ground.

[If we’re assuming that Spidey fell right down when he got out of the window, aren’t we going to end up right on him?]

{Um, maybe?}

“Well, fu-” Wade gets out, before he collides with the ground.

Spiderman, cling to the wall of Deadpool’s building of course watch all of this happening.

He had been busy internally cringing over the previous situation, and had not yet gotten around to figuring out how to get home.

So when one crazy mercenary suddenly had charged through his own window and then plunged straight for the ground, Peter had been quite shocked.

He had watched as Deadpool had collided with the ground and his heart had leaped out of his chest. Because, holy shit, the guy just got smashed like a fly on a windshield.

Crawling as fast as he can down the building, Peter curses this day. He curses the fact that he met this insane guy, who apparently has no self-preservation.

When Peter gets to the ground the sight is quite shocking. Not only has Deadpool managed to land face first but he has somehow gotten his whole body to splash all over the place.

“Shit,” Peter mumbles. This is a horrible day.

 

*~Later~*

 

Deadpool wakes hours later, body completely regenerated and hurting like a bitch.

“Ugh, mama. I should not have party so hard last night,” he mumbles as he rubs a hand over his face. His face, which is not covered by a mask.

“Ugh, fuck.” Did he get exploded again? Does this mean he has to make a whole new suit? Well, that’s just great.

He turns so that his face is burrowed in a pillow. Wait. A pillow? Well, when he can’t have exploded. He lifts his head and looks around, realizing that he is in his own bedroom. Well, how in the good name of tacos did he get here?

Thinking back, Wade remembers how he had plummeted right out off his window after Spiderman who had … Oh shit, Spiderman! Where is he?

Getting up, Wade doesn’t really take into account that most of his suit is missing, and that he’s only wearing his suit-pants and a loose t-shirt – {how did that get there?} – and goes into his living room.

Entering the living room, he stops dead in his tracks. On his couch, curled up and still wearing his suit, is Spiderman sleeping.

[What is he still doing here?]

{Does it matter? We’ve got that stunning butt back on our couch!}

Well, this is … something. Seeing other man lying so still and restful is kind of endearing and Wade can’t help the slow smile that spreads on his face. Going back into his room, he gets a blanket and brings it back into the living room, carefully placing it over Spiderman.

“Sleep well, Baby Boy,” he mumbles before returning to his own bed.


	4. "I'll be there for youuuuuuu, if you're there for me toooooooo" - 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe. But there would be no killing on my watch, pal!” Peter warns pointing a finger at Deadpool’s chest.
> 
> “Really?” Deadpool pouts. “Just a little bit of killing?”
> 
> “No. It’s no killing or no team-ups,” Peter states firmly.
> 
> {We’re not seriously going to take this deal, are we?}
> 
> [We can’t be]
> 
> {I know the guy’s got an ass that was created in Heaven, but we can’t seriously give up on our carrier just to hang around it}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update, guys, but school has now begun. This mean that I might not be able to update every week. It doesn't mean I won't try, but just consider yourself warned.

Peter wakes up with a thundering headache. Really he should have expected this. The pain meds can only help you for so long. So Peter sticks out an arm to his side, where he is pretty sure there’s supposed to be some more pain meds. Jackpot! He finds them and not even caring about how dry his throat is, he swallows them down. It’s a very unpleasant feeling, and really he should have gotten some water, but now they are down, so who cares?

Grumbling, Peter raises his head to take in his surroundings. Grunting, he smacks his head back down into the pillow.

That’s right. He forgot. He is still at Deadpool’s place.

After having scraped the remaining pieces of Deadpool up from the concrete, which had taken many tours up and down the building, he had laid them in what he assumed was his bed. He had left the room after having seen some of the skin starting to knit itself back together, which was a little too much for his poor head and stomach.

Why, oh why, had he run out of webfluid? He couldn’t just leave the apartment, because walking home wasn’t optional. And after crawling up and down Deadpool’s building to get all his parts back in, his head had been spinning quite unpleasantly. So crawling home wasn’t option either. Alas, he ended up on Deadpool’s couch, dizzy and nauseous.

He thanks whatever higher power that has blessed him with the slightest bit of healing power, for over the night it has reduced what had probably been a concussion into a bad headache.

Like a really bad headache. Like hangover bad. Tequila mixed with vodka bad (Peter had tried that once at Harry’s birthday party. In the moment it had seemed like the greatest idea ever, but the morning after had been horrible. Gwen and Harry had both had great laughs).

It doesn’t help matters that someone keeps insisting on whistling somewhere in the room. And quite loudly.

Peter lets out another grunt, which actually makes the whistling stop. But then it is replaced with humming. Which is just as annoying as the whistling.

Grunting, Spiderman gets to his feet.

“Would you quite it, already?!” he spits out through his teeth, clustering his head, as he walks towards the sound.

“Well, well, Baby Boy, you sure aren’t a morning person, are you?” comes it rather cheery from an open doorway, which turns out to lead to a kitchen. In said kitchen stands Deadpool, very much no longer in pieces and wearing an –

“Is that an apron?” Peter gets out quite shocked. Deadpool is wearing said apron, which turns out to have “kiss the cook” printed across it, then he turns around to face Spiderman. What is even more ridicules is the fact that he is wearing it over a maid’s dress, which he is wearing over his suit. Three layers of weird.

“Why, yes it is, Spidey-pie,” Deadpool sing-songs. “And since I am the cook who has made you pancakes I think it only appropriate that I get my kiss!” All of this is said in the same sing-song tone while Deadpool sways his hips from side to side.

“You made pancakes?” Spiderman says as he walks towards the kitchen counter ignoring the other part of what Deadpool has said, focusing only on his rumbling stomach.

“Indeed I did! Dead-cakes, as I like to call them! Only completed with true Canadian maple syrup!” He says all of this as he gripes said maple syrup from a cupboard over the stove, which is thankfully turned off. Magically Deadpool has somehow managed to make 11 stacks of pancakes, which all are pretty mouth-watering.

“You’re Canadian?” Peter asks as he lifts his mask from his mouth to breathe through his nose, letting in the obscene sent of the pancakes. Okay, how can he say no to that?

Canadian. Why does that ring a bell in Peter’s head? Didn’t he once have a friend who was Canadian? Or was it a cousin? Doesn’t matter, that’s a long time ago.

“Sure are! Why, I don’t strike you as the perfect Canadian patriot?” Deadpool pouts as he lifts as pancake from one of the stacks, after it has been heavily coated in syrup.

Peter can’t help but laugh at that. Really this guy is ridicules. But he can’t deny that his humour is as good as his own.

“So, are these safe to eat?” Peter jokingly asks, holding one up between thumb and index finger.

“Baby Boy, you hurt me!” Deadpool holds a hand to his chest, looking the spitting image of false hurt. “This is my gracious ‘thank you’ for scrapping my guts off the ground! Why ever would it be anything but flawless?”

After checking that no spidey-sense goes off Peter takes his first bite of the pancake. And wow, they are really as good as promise.

“Holy crap! These are awesome!” Deadpool glows with the praise and hums while chewing his pancake. They eat their pancakes in silence for a while. Then Deadpool starts going about how he studied the accient art of pancake making in China on a job that took long than he had expected. Peter listens and is actually quite entailed by Deadpool’s story and asks questions once in a while, which seems to make Deadpool glow even more.

Really they are having quite an awesome time together which quite shocks Peter. He would have thought that their differences – and not to mention the events of last night – would make it hard for them to get along. But really he is enjoying himself a lot. He has had this much fun since he and Gwen –

“Oh shit, Gwen!” Peter interrupts Deadpool as he is telling about a time in Russia where he had to arm-wrestle a homophobic minister and almost won before someone had shot his arm off.

“Excuse me?” Deadpool turns to Spiderman, confused frown on his face.

“My girlfriend! I didn’t come home last night! She’s gotta be worried sick!” Peter drops the pancake he had currently been muching on, and pulls his mask back down over his face.

“Ah, yes. The girlfriend …” Deadpool mutters. “Well, you better get home then.”

“Yeah, she’s going to kill me,” Peter says over his shoulder as he walks to the window.

“Um, are you sure you’re okay to leave? You know, with your head and everything?” Deadpool ask both out of concern but also because he has been enjoying Spiderman’s company just as much as Spiderman has.

{Wow, clingy much?}

“I think I’m okay. But thanks. Really, for everything!” Spiderman turns around to see Deadpool standing in the middle of his apartment, somehow looking out of place.

“Ah, no trouble, Baby Boy. S’least I could do, for my fellow citizen,” he says, nervously scratching his neck.

“Well, um,” Peter stops in the window, about to jump across the street and on to the top of the next building. “I guess, I’ll see you around?” It comes out a question, because really, do he actually want to see this guy again? He’s a deadly mercenary, who kills people for a living. And he’s clearly also a little screwed in the head. All in all, not the best company to keep.

But the merc lights up at the words and seems to enter a better mood.

“Sure thing, Baby Boy! Hey, maybe we could team up sometime?! Get some takeout afterwards and all!” Deadpool is already deep in planning, and Peter smiles under the mask. Damnit, this guy is a dork.

“Maybe. But there would be no killing on my watch, pal!” Peter warns pointing a finger at Deadpool’s chest.

“Really?” Deadpool pouts. “Just a little bit of killing?”

“No. It’s no killing or no team-ups,” Peter states firmly.

{We’re not seriously going to take this deal, are we?}

[We can’t be]

{I know the guy’s got an ass that was created in Heaven, but we can’t seriously give up on our carrier just to hang around it}

“Deal!” Deadpool sticks his hand out to Spiderman, ready to shake on it.

{[WHAT?]}

“Good,” Peter says, smiling and taking Deadpool’s hand.

“Pinky-promise?” Deadpool offers.

Laughing, Peter shakes his head but takes Deadpool’s pinky.

“Pinky-promise. See you around, Deadpool. Don’t kill anyone in the meantime!” Spiderman jumps out of the window catching the edge of the rooftop of the next building, giving him leverage to swing himself up and away.

Deadpool tries to not stand in the window like a princess in a fairy tale looking after her mysterious prince.

{I thought we were supposed to be the knight in this tale? What happened to that?}

[Times changes apparently]

 

*~Later~*

 

“Gwen?” Peter peeks into the apartment’s bedroom through the window. He is expecting to be killed as soon as Gwen finds him. In case of the happening, he would like to have an option of escape.

“Peter?!” By the sound of it, Peter is going to guess that Gwen is in the living room.

The sound of footsteps reaches Peter in the window. He’s slowly starting to consider dropping out the window and just avoid the confrontation and the lesson that Gwen is surely about to given him.

“Get in here! Someone could see you,” Gwen is in the room and over by the window in the blink of an eye, pulling him out of the window and shutting the curtains. Then she turns towards him a stern look on her face.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, what the hell?!” She’s all up in his face, pulling the mask from his face and putting her hands on his face instead.

“Are you out of your mind?! You don’t come home, you don’t call, you don’t text, you don’t even appear on the friggen news!” She stares him into the eyes looking very angry and very unhappy with him.

“I’m sor-” Peter tries to explain, but he gets cut off mid-word.

“No, no, no! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?! I mean, for Gosh sake, anything could happen to you! Bank robbery gone wrong and you lying in an ally with a gut wound! Or some villain creep getting his hands on you a kidnapping you! Or … Don’t ever do that again!” She holds her gaze not quivering in her speech, making sure he understands exactly what kind of mess this is.

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called. I know. But things happened last night, that were not so nice, and I ended up in a situation where it wouldn’t have been wise to call you,” Peter tries to explain, thinking back on how his night had taken a certain turn.

“What?! What happened last night?!” She places a hand on the back of his head, making him winces. The pain has receded a lot, but it’s still there.

“Peter, what happened with your head?”

“Let me explain. Just – give me five minutes. I’ve slept in the suit and I really wanna get out of it now.”

“You slept in the suit?!” She looks at him, the veils turning in her head. Then, a little concerned and just maybe a bit accusing: “Have you been out drinking?”

“What?” He turns to her, surprised. “No, just, ugh, let me get this off. Then I promise I’ll explain,” He says as he walks towards the bathroom, already starting to unzip the suit in the back.

“Maybe you should take a shower as well. You stink!” Gwen laughs after him, closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Hey!” He yells, but he’s grinning. Well, at least she doesn’t seem too mad. Now there’s just the mess of trying to explain the whole situation with Deadpool to her.

 

*~Meanwhile~*

 

“What do you think a guy means when he says ‘later’?!” Wade asks, as his hanging upside down on the couch in his house. Which is situated in San Francisco.

Al makes a big sigh and rubs a hand over her lower face.

“I dunno, Wade. Why are you asking me? It’s not like I would know,” she says. Really she needs to get out around other people, Wade’s company is getting tiring – oh wait she can’t! Still being kept prisoner/roommate by Wade. So much for that plan

“Well, do you think I should call him?” Wade asks throwing a ball up into the air and catching it again.

{We don’t even have his number}

[Well maybe we should look it up in the great big “hero, anti-hero and villain phonebook”]

{There is such a thing?}

[No, you dumbass, of course there isn’t]

“I don’t know, Wade. When did you last see him?” Al sits down on the couch knocking Wade’s legs off of it, which makes Wade fall to the floor.

“This morning! But, Al that’s such a long time ago!” Wade complains as he tries to get himself in a better position on the floor.

“Well, haven’t you ever heard about the three-day-rule?” Al asks jokingly. This guy is too much. Why is it exactly she’s still here? Oh yeah, that’s right. She’s being kept prisoner. She can’t just leave. Totally forgot that. Or not.

“THREE DAYS?! But that’s such a long time!” Wade wails and turns around, so he’s lying on his stomach.

“Well, boo-huh, champ, that’s what all the big love experts says,” she huffs and knocks Wade with her foot. Or she tries too. It is kind hard to tell if it’s him or the coffee table that she hits.

“Maybe I should just asks the Avengers? They would know where he is, wouldn’t they?” Wade says as he goes over his options.

Al sighs and leans back on the couch. Wade has not been here in over a week and now he’s back, which is great because then she has some kind of company. But really this was not what she had in mind then she wanted company.

“Or maybe I should just hang around where I met him yesterday? Or maybe I should create some trouble! That will make him show up!” Wade exclaims happily as he gets off of the floor and starts pacing around the couch.

“Didn’t you make some kind of agreement with him or something?” Al reminds him.

“Oh yeah! Shit. Well, what if I create some non-un-aliving? That will still get his nose up, right? I can create chaos without a death count, can’t I?” Wade stops in his pacing and taps a finger to his chin.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can do that! Oh this is going to be so much fun! A challenge and I get to see Spidey!” Wade throws his arms to the sides and runs into the bedroom already starting to get out his spare katanas that he keeps in there.

“And how exactly are you going to create this trouble, if I may ask?” Al asks from the couch, head leaning back in the general direction of where Wade is.

“Well, that’s what is going to be a challenge. Maybe I’ll flip some cars! Or get in a fight with Dare Devil. That would be fun!”

“Isn’t dealing with one superhero enough?” Al calls, but she never gets an answer. The teleporter makes the sound that announces that it’s been activated, which means Deadpool is leaving.

“Bye, Al! See ya soon!” Wade calls out, but the sound thins out meaning that he was saying it was it was starting to work.

“Don’t forget to bring more groceries!” Al calls after him, but she doubts that he hears it.

“Friggen idjit,” she mumbles. Once again she’s alone in the house. Hurray.

 

*~Later, in New York~*

 

“Are you heading out again?” Gwen calls from the bathroom as she is about to brush her teeth. Peter is just starting to consider wrether to climb into bed or go on patrol.

“Dunno. Maybe,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Well, I think you should go,” Gwen says. Or that’s what he’s guessing she’s saying through a mouth full of toothpaste and toothbrush.

“Really?” Peter says as he turns around to look at her.

“Well, you do kinda have a date with that Deadpool guy, don’t you?” she says smirking. Oh this is great. Gosh, is he glad that he did not tell her about the, ehm, _incident_ that also happened at Deadpool’s yesterday. Gosh, no, don’t think about that. That’s only going to make you blush and then Gwen will just ask what that’s about. No, straight thoughts, keep yourself on the straight and narrow.

Peter groans and covers his face with a hand.

“No, I don’t have a date with him. I just said that I’d _maybe_ team up with him _sometime_. That does not mean _today_. Or in the next week. Or the next _ever_. Really, Gwen, the guy is insane!” Peter exclaims as he throws his hands up into the air.

“Aw. You like him, don’t you?” Gwen teases.

“What?! NO!” Ugh, this is no good. Being home and with Gwen should have helped him forget about yesterday, but it has been doing nothing but the opposite. Why, oh why, won’t the universe let Peter forget about Deadpool?

“Come on. You gotta get out there. The whole of New York will sleep better knowing you’re out there keeping them safe,” Gwen says as she nudges him towards their closet, where the suit is hidden under the bottom panel.

“You’re just saying that so you can have the whole bed to yourself,” Peter mumbles as he’s dragging the suit out and taking off his pants.

“Well, maybe that too,” she says grinning. As she is walking out of the room again she gives him a slap on his ass. As Peter turns around to catch her she hurries out, cackling like a witch. Peter smiles fondly after her, before pulling his mask over his face.

 

*~Meanwhile~*

 

Deadpool is being a very good citizen of New York at the moment. He’s very good-mannerly helping an elderly lady cross the road. Though he’s more carrying her. And he’s running across the road. Which is actually a quite busy street with a lot of cars driving very fast and all honking their horns at him.

“PUT ME DOWN!” The old lady yells, or actually she’s shrieking but really it’s hard to hear over the honking cars.

“Lady, I’m doing us both a favour!” Deadpool yells back at her. Finally he reaches the other side of the road. Looking around at the rooftops, Deadpool doesn’t see any arachnid-themed super heroes. Which means one thing.

“Well, it’s looks like we have to take another lap, grammy!” Deadpool yells while he turns around to cross the road again. For like the fifth time or something.

“Deadpool!” someone yells from above. Deadpool looks up, as he is jumping over a car, and sees Spiderman swinging towards him.

“Spidey! Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to show your sweet ass around here for hours! Haven’t we, grammy?!” Deadpool calls out to the hero while he avoids a car that is just not slowing down. Rude, if he may say so.

“Put the lady down, Deapool!” Spiderman yells as he swings over Deadpool’s head again.

“In the middle of the road? I don’t think that’s a great idea, Spidey. And this is coming for the master of not-great ideas!” Deadpool calls out. Finally he makes across the road.

“Here you go, ma’am. I think this is where you get off!” Deadpool puts the old lady down, who admittedly runs away.

“Wow, rude. A thank-you would have been nice!” Deadpool calls after her. Spiderman lands beside him and grabs him by the arm leading him away from the crowed street and into an ally.

“Woah, slow down, Baby Boy. If you wanted me alone, you could just have said so,” Deadpool says, waggling his eyebrows. Which he doesn’t really have. But you get what I mean.

“What the hell was that about?!” Spiderman yells, ignoring what Wade just said and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?!” Deadpool is confused. What did he do wrong?

“That!” Spiderman says again but this time gesturing towards the road.

“Oh, you mean my good citizen deeds? That was just something I do in my down time. You know, being the good citizen that I am and all,” Deadpool explains. Spiderman stares at him in wonder for a moment. Then he shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you,” he says as he’s shaking his head.

“Well, it got your attention, didn’t it?” Deadpool lights up. His plan worked. He got Spiderman to show up and he did it all without killing anybody.

{Ah, yeah, mental high fives}

[We can’t physically do that, remember? Besides, when are you excited about not-killing?]

{You gotta take your victories where you can get them}

“What?!” Spiderman exclaims, looking back up at Deadpool. “This was all to get my attention?”

“Sure it was! How else why I get it?” Deadpool asks still smiling like a lunatic {which we are} under the mask.

“Unbelievable,” Spiderman says. Deadpool doesn’t know this, but Peter is secretly – and much against his own will – smiling under the mask. This guy is insane. He should not have been looking for him, though he is glad he did. That poor old lady might still be trapped if he hadn’t found them.

“So-” Deadpool drags the word out, standing on this tiptoes and rolling down on his feet again.

“So?” Spiderman asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Are we gonna team-up tonight?” Deadpool asks, sticking his face out and there by invading Peter’s personal space.

“Um, I don’t know,” Spiderman says, thinking back at what Gwen said about him having a date with Deadpool. Gosh, he’s so not telling her about this when he gets home.

“Pretty please?” Deadpool says as he makes puppy eyes at Peter. Which again, how does he do that under a mask? That’s pretty impressive.

“Can you promise me not to kill anyone?” Peter asks doubting, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I already did that, but yeah, sure! No killing. I swear!” Deadpool says while trying to contain his own happiness. Seriously, this day is turning out to be the best day ever!

“Then – Okay. I guess we can do that.” Peter says.

“AW YEAH! FINALLY SOME TEAM RED ACTION!” Deadpool exclaims pumping his fist into the air.

{Well, team red minus Dare Devil}

[Minor detail]

 


	5. Friendship High Five - 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Really, you enjoyed those?” Peter asks, tilting his head back in laughter. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one to actually tolerate ‘The Phantom Menace’.”  
> “What are you talking about, Spidey?! Those prequels were gold. I mean maybe not the first but after that?! Young Anakin Skywalker, yes puh-lease!” Deadpool says dragging out the syllables while fanning himself with a hand.  
> “Ah, yes. Good point,” Peter agrees a smile tiling his face.  
> “I mean even young Obi, was actually sorta cool. At least in Phantom, because he didn’t have that beard and he was much more hot-headed. I do like me some young Evan Macgregor,” Deadpool continued, waggling his eyebrows.  
> “Ewan McGregor? Really?” Peter asks trying not to burst out giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry. This chapter was such a tough nail and school hasn't exactly given me the most time either (as a matter of fact there's an English assignment that I should finish soon), but I DID IT!  
> WE'RE BACK IN BUSINESS GUYS!!

The team-up doesn’t exactly go ‘swell’.

First of all Deadpool starts out wanting to use his teleporter and tries to get Spiderman with him. This results in a very dizzy Spiderman, who almost throws up then they finally land. After that Spiderman swears that he is never going to use that piece of hell again.

Second of all, Deadpool brought guns. They are about to stop a robbery then Spiderman notices the guns and has to scold Deadpool for bringing them. Deadpool pouts all the way through the lecture.

Third of all, Deadpool trips over his own feet and lands on top of Spiderman – woops, totally accidental, there – which also results in him – accidentally! – grabbing Spiderman’s ass. The good thing in on the other hand is that both of them avoid getting shot. Deadpool of course points this out to Spiderman after the guy who tried to put holes in them has been webbed up. Spiderman still doesn’t seem to appreciate the gesture.

“It was an accident, I swear!” Deadpool exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air.

“Yeah, right. No more funny business, caphice?” Spiderman says, one finger pointing at Deadpool’s chest.

[He seems to be doing that a lot lately]

{That because he just really wanna get to see what is under this sexy suit}

[Uhhhh. He is not ready to see that]

The next thing on the list of patrolling is them stopping a mugging. Which goes … better. At least there is no ass grabbing. And no one gets shot. But Deadpool gets stabbed.

“WHAT THE Fµ©£, MAN?!” Deadpool exclaims as the guy buries the blade in Deadpool’s gut. The moment later the guy is stuck to the wall of the ally. The couple, who had been successfully guided out of the ally by Spiderman, scream. Apparently they don’t know about Deadpool and his healing factor. Well, not many do. But still. They are calling for an ambulance as Deadpool pulls the knife out of his gut and lets it drop to the ground where it makes a clank-sound and drips blood onto the pavement.

“DEADPOOL!” Spiderman yells and runs towards Deadpool, his hand going directly to the wound to put pressure on it.

“Are you okay?” For moment Spiderman – just like that couple – has forgotten about Deadpool’s healing factor. “Do you want me to web it up?! Gosh, what the hell?! Why didn’t you just knock the guy unconscious?” Spiderman runs his hands over the wound again, webbing it up and checking that it holds.

Meanwhile Wade is frozen. He doesn’t really understand what is going on. This is nothing compared to other wounds he has had before, and yet something this small has never gotten this much attention.

Gently Deadpool places a hand on Spiderman’s shoulder.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna heal up in a matter of minutes. Don’t worry about it,” he says as he gently pushes Spiderman away.

Getting to his sense, Peter realizes that he is indeed overreacting. Internally he faceplams himself, but stays cool on the outside.

“Okay, then,” he says, clearing his throat. “Moving along then.”

Together they get to the rooftop and jumps from roof to roof for a while looking for more trouble. It turns out that there isn’t much more going on tonight. It’s just a quiet night and nothing seems to be going down.

“Well,” Deadpool says, sitting down on a rooftop, legs hanging out over the side of it.

“Well,” Spiderman repeats still standing up and looking around for any kind of disturbances.

“Well -” Deadpool says again, dragging the word this time. “Nothing more seems to be happening tonight, so I was thinking …” He stops looking down on his lap, pressing his index fingers together in a nervous gesture.

“Yeah?” Spiderman asks, looking down at Deadpool. Deadpool turns around to face him and, wow, is that puppy eyes that Peter detects under the mask?

“Well, do you wanna go somewhere and grab food?” He rushes out, as if he won’t get the words out if he takes his time to say it. “Not that you have to, of course, I just thought it might be a good way to wrap up the night and all. And seeing as I could eat I figured you could probably eat as well, and eating is good, and I know this place …” the merc rambles on.

Peter smiles under the mask. Here he is, after having cleaned the street of New York for crime with Deadpool and now said Deadpool is asking him out.

Wait. Asking him out? No, that’s not what’s happening. They are just two pals hanging out and fighting crime. That is totally normal and platonic. Nothing romantic about fighting crime. Too much blood is involved there.

So Peter shrugs it off, and nods.

“Sure,” he says, interrupting Deadpool’s awkward murmuring.

“But – maybe we should just buy takeout somewhere. And not eat it there.”

“Why not?” Deadpool ask, curiosity spilling onto his face.

“Well, seeing as we are both in our suits, it might not be the best idea to eat somewhere. In said suits,” Spiderman explains.

“Why? I do it all the time. No problems there?”

{It’s because he doesn’t wanna be seen hanging out with us}

[Who can blame him? It’s not like we are the finest company to dine with. And we do have bloody record. He doesn’t wanna catch onto our bad influence]

Wade shakes his head, trying and failing to ignore the boxes.

“Sure thing, Baby Boy! Whatever makes you happy!” he says, adopting a faux enthusiasm, to cover up for the mental blow the boxes have swung at him.

“Great,” the spider says. And that is how Spiderman and Deadpool find themselves sitting on the edge of a rooftop eating tacos. Which is beyond the best tacos Peter has had in a while. Like, damn, these are great.

Which of course he lets the merc know.

“Yeah, they are pretty damn stellar, if ya ask me,” Deadpool says while taking a huge bit of this third or maybe fifth taco.

Peter is very careful with not looking at Deadpool while he’s eating. There are two reasons behind this.

Firstly, Deadpool doesn’t seem comfortable without his mask. Then Peter had the distinct pleasure of resembling Deadpool after his plunge to the ground, he had noticed that the merc where covered in scars. Big, nasty scars that looked like they hurt like hell. Peter had wondered for a moment how much pain the man must be in all the time. But then his limbs had started to re-attach themselves to each other and he had gone the hell out of there.

So Peter isn’t exactly sure if the scars where something he was allowed to see.

Secondly, Deadpool isn’t a graceful eater and what Peter has heard and seen out of the corner of his eyes has truly traumatised him.

After that they find themselves wrapped in conversation, exchanging references and quotes from all things pop-culture. Both Peter and Wade loses track of time, and just sits there, even after the tacos are all gone and the streets are growing quiet.

“Really, you enjoyed those?” Peter asks, tilting his head back in laughter. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one to actually tolerate ‘The Phantom Menace’.”

“What are you talking about, Spidey?! Those prequels were gold. I mean maybe not the first but after that?! Young Anakin Skywalker, yes puh-lease!” Deadpool says dragging out the syllables while fanning himself with a hand.

“Ah, yes. Good point,” Peter agrees a smile tiling his face.

“I mean even young Obi, was actually sorta cool. At least in Phantom, because he didn’t have that beard and he was much more hot-headed. I do like me some young Evan Macgregor,” Deadpool continued, waggling his eyebrows.

“Ewan McGregor? Really?” Peter asks trying not to burst out giggling.

“What? Are you saying his not a stud? ‘Cause I will fight you about this, you can beat your sweet ass I will!” Deadpool fake-threatens raising his fists towards Spiderman, trying to resemble a boxer about to fight.

Laughing loudly Spiderman throws up his hands in defeat.

“I give in, I give in! I’m not going to question, your weird taste in men no more!” he states, putting a hand over his chest. Looking down on said hand, Peter remembers the hidden watch, and is suddenly alerted about the time.

“Shit!” he exclaims as he gets to his feet. “I’ve gotta get home! Gwe- I mean – MY GIRLFRIEND, is gotta be super worried about me by now!”

{Ah, blocked by the girlfriend once again}

[What a shame. And they were finally bonding and shit]

“Oh”, a small murmur slips past Wade’s lips as he watches Spiderman get to his feet.

“I’ll see you around then?” It comes out a question, which wasn’t what Wade was aiming for at all.

“Yeah, same time, next time!” Spiderman yells over his shoulder as he webs away.

“Did he say ‘next time’?” Wade asks caught off guard.

[I believe he did, big guy]

{BOO-YA! We have another date with Spidey!}

[‘Cause this first one went so well]

“Could have gone worse, I guess,” Wade answers the box. Yellow meanwhile is celebrating and ranting about how they are now gonna be seeing a lot more of that awesome-ass ass.

 

*~Meanwhile~*

 

“Gwen! I’m so sorry! I just got caught and there was this -” Peter rambles as he climbs in through the window while simultaneously pulling of his mask. Stumbling into the bedroom and trying not to fall over his own feet, as he fumbles with the zipper in his back.

On the bed Gwen makes a grumbling sound and turns on her side. Then as if struck by lightning she sits up straight and turns towards Peter.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” A pillow collides with his face seconds after the sound, both knocking him to the floor. Yes, folks, this is the graceful Spiderman, getting knocked off his feet by a pillow. Truly graceful.

“I – um …” Truly, Peter is quite the articulated superhero. How is it again that he does this then he’s out and being a pro-superhero? Perhaps it’s just not that easy then there’s one very angry girlfriend towering over you. Yep, that might be it.

“Well?!” A very commanding Gwen asks, looking down at Peter and tapping her foot on the floor.

“I was out, patrolling. And then, um, you know, I ran into … Deadpool,” Gwen eyes widen, but before she can start telling him off, Peter continues: “And, really, I couldn’t just leave him alone, ‘cause he’s a real troublemaker.” Smiling to himself, Peter gets up and walks around Gwen, zipping down his suit at the same time.

“Really you should have seen it Gwen! When I found him, do you know what he was doing?” He turns around with a grin smeared across his face to look at a very confused Gwen. “He was carrying this old lady back and forth over a road! Just running back and forth and jumping over cars! It was so stupid,” Peter lets out a surprised laughed at the memory.

“So you did go see him?” A smirk is spreading over Gwen’s face. It’s still tanged with disapproval and confusion, but it’s clearing up.

“Well, it was that, or that poor lady would still be carried around by him, and honestly I think that eventually it might have killed her!” Peter exclaims, carding his hands through his hair, which just makes it even messier.

Gwen just rolls her eyes at him, picking up the pillow and hopping back onto the bed.

“So did you guys fight crime ALL night?” she asks not looking at him but crawling back under the duvet.

“Well um,” Peter awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and then dragging the same hand through his hair. “Not exactly.”

“What?” Gwen turns around and looks at him confusion replacing her previously smug look.

“Well, it was pretty quiet tonight, so after we took out what we could find, we just … sorta hung out …” Peter trails off, looking anywhere but Gwen. His feet look pretty damn interesting all of a sudden. And rubbing one over the other also works just fine.

“Okay, so let me just get this clear,” Gwen pauses sitting up straighter. “You hung out – with the guy that didn’t hesitate to shot some guys – and is a known mercenary?” The accusing tone is very evident in her voice Peter doesn’t even need to look at her to know that.

“Hey, I know all that, but I made him promise not to kill anybody. I laid that out as a rule from the start!” Peter takes off the top of his suit and put in the closet. Then he takes out an oversized t-shirt and puts that on.

“Wait what?” Peter turns around to face Gwen, who’s sitting in the middle of the bed surrounded by blanket and hugging a pillow to her chest.

“You’re telling me that you made a highly famous and skilled mercenary swear off killing? Just so you guys could hang out?” Peter frowns but nods, not sure where Gwen is going with this. Sure, he was a little surprised too then Deadpool agreed, but maybe he just wanted to change path?

“Wow,” Gwen whistles. “This guy’s really got the hots for you!” she says as she covers her mouth trying to stop a burst of giggles.

Peter groans and rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling at her. It is true, this situation is very weird and really he did not foresee that he would become the turning point in someone else’s “super-carrier”. Maybe this is a turn point in his crime-fighting carrier as well. Maybe if he can get a guy like Deadpool to turn his life around, he can do the same for others! Wow, that would really mark him down in the Avengers book. Not that Peter is a big fan or anything. He’s not. He just greatly admires what they do and what they stand for. And he might have owned a Stark poster once. And Captain America sweatpants. But that is off the topic.

“Shut up,” Peter says grabbing a pillow close to the edge of the bed and throwing it in her general direction as he turns around and gets in his sweatpants (not the Cap ones … the Black Widow ones …).

“So you’re going to do a team up with him again?” The sound of Gwen’s voice comes muffled through the layers of blankets that she is now hiding under.

“Well, I might,” Peter starts crawling into the bed, trying to take back some of the blankets that Gwen has honked.

“If he intends to stay off killing and you know, clean up his apartment and such, then yeah. I might,” Peter smiles as he leans over Gwen and kiss her on the forehead.

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Gwen says as she snuggles up to Peter, draping herself over Peter.

“What?” He looks down at her, twirling her finger in his shirt.

“Well, if you had a ‘super-friend’? Someone to watch your back while you’re out fighting.” She looks up at him, big eyes filled with an emotion he can’t read. “Some to make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

Peter huffs: “I don’t think I would be the one doing stupid things. He’s really quite the reckless person.”

Gwen looks back down on his chest. The hand on his chest cribs tighter in his shirt.

“That makes two of you,” she mumbles, but Peter doesn’t hear this, already starting to doze off.

 

*~Later, like some days. Maybe weeks. There are more team-ups, which go more or less like the first, but they are both improving. Wade is starting to be better at leaving his more fatal weapons at home, and not shot people to in vital organs. Peter on the other hand is starting to realize that having a “partner” is much more fun – and safe – than just heading out into fighting crime alone. Gwen doesn’t say it, but she’s relived too that there is now someone watching Peter’s back ~*

 

 

*~Some dock somewhere …

[The writer doesn’t know shit about the New York layout]

*~Some dock somewhere in New York, probably around Queens or Brooklyn~*

{They just looked up a map, but couldn’t be bother to be specific}

[Poor Scandinavian, who has never been out of Europe]

*~Some dock with containers, and which locations doesn’t have to be specific because it is irrelevant to the plot, you just need to know there are a lot of containers~*

 

 

“Deadpool, to you left!” Spiderman swings over the heads of two gunmen, knocking one of them in the head with his foot. The other looks up only to be shot in the face with webfluid, which knocks him to the ground.

Deadpool turns around to face another gunman who was sneaking up on him.

“Now, now, Clarence. That is no way to impress a lady,” Deadpool says as he knocks the gun out of the man’s hand which he was planning to put to Deadpool’s head.

From above Spiderman assess the scene. Three new gunmen are hiding behind a container and are gesturing to each other. Spiderman sees how they are slowly starting to circulate towards Deadpool. So instead of going for them alone, Peter swings down to where Wade has just knocked the gun-less gunman unconscious.

“Well how about that! The spider is joining the floor party!” Deadpool smirks as he takes a deep mock bow to which Spiderman just rolls his eyes. He quickly slides into a battlestance readying himself and gestures for Deadpool to do the same.

“Three armed are coming our way. They know where you are, but they didn’t see me.” Spiderman delivers the information with a calm air.

“Soooo, are you suggesting a surprise party?” Deadpool says as he turns around to face the same way as Spiderman pulling out an edgeless katana, which looks more like a steel baseball bat. It won’t kill anyone unless you beat them repeatedly with it. But Deadpool has of course promised Spiderman that he won’t do that. So this particular katana has been approved for team-ups.

“If you’re game for it,” Spiderman replies with a smirk firing a web in the air and swings away into the unseen.

They wait in silence for the gunmen to come for Deadpool. As if to lure them out Deadpool starts whistling. Chills run down Spiderman’s spine at the sound of the classical tune, but for some reason it helps him focus and readies him.

{Uh, the writer is thinking some Supernatural into this}

[Well, the Purgatory fighting sequence were cinematographic gold]

{WOHA! Season 8 spoiler alert!}

[Can’t even keep their other fandoms out of their works]

{Someone is Supernatural trash}

[But really this an amazing scene though]

{Because the writer is very much trash they even have a link just so they can shove this in everyone’s face <https://youtu.be/b8l4AtQTEYI?t=9m7s>}

[Very classy promoting]

All of the sudden the three gunmen rounds the corner. The first go directly for Deadpool running at him, a bat raised ready to strike. The two other fall behind, one training a gun on Deadpool, the other remaining in a loss stance, both ready to attack and to run.

The bat is easily avoided, yet Deadpool still lets it hit him but only on the shoulder. This does not stop the whistling, but only seem to intensify it. The guy stumbles a few more steps forward and is starting to turn around. Just as his face turns to look at Deadpool, the edgeless katana connects with his ribs, making him collapse in on himself.

From behind him, the second man is about to cock his pistol, which is suddenly knocked out of his hand and is now stuck to the side of one of the surrounding containers. The guy trails the pistols movement with his eyes and therefore never sees the foot that collides with his face and knocks him to the ground. Spiderman swings down and lands not far from him turning on the spot to make sure the gunman is completely knocked out.

“KO, man. So sorry you couldn’t stay for the party.”

Deadpool is standing over the first gunman, not hitting him, but more or less poking him with the katana.

“Not much fight in you, Clarence,” he notes, a bit of disappointment to his tone.

“Little more fight in me, Mr. Wilson,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind him. Deadpool turns around lifting a non-existing eyebrow to face the third and last gunman, who is now pointing a gun at Deadpool’s forehead.

“Well, you caught me there, Clarence,” Deadpool exclaims. Or at least that is what Peter thinks he tried to say, because he is caught off mid-word, as the third gunman pulls the trigger.

“No!” Spiderman exclaims just as the bullet connects with Deadpool face, drilling its way into his face. Deadpool falls to the ground, dead.

“Goddamnit!” Peter yells, as he shots the third gunman with webfluid, sending him sideways and sticking him to the opposite container. The gun is knocked out of his hand as he collides and glides away from him.

Spiderman runs to Deadpool immediately checking for a pulse. Then he finds one, it is frantic and fading away too fast. On the other hand, Deadpool isn’t breathing. His body is mainly just frantically trying to repair itself, even though it’s a lost cause.

But Peter knows that in Deadpool’s case it might not be. Actually, it certainly isn’t.

“Goddamnit, Deadpool!” Peter mutters.

He digs out his spare burner phone, which is hidden in an inner pocket in his suit. The first thing he does is call the cops, informing them of the situation. After that is done, he goes into the messages and send out a quick text to Gwen, letting her know that he probably won’t be home tonight.

After everything is done, he throws the phone on the ground and stomps on it, destroying it completely.

He then makes sure that he has all the gunmen tied up and ready for the police.

“Well, boys, see you around,” he yells over his shoulder, as he throws Deadpool over his shoulder – thank the cat gods for super-strength – and shots a web at a higher building.

 

*~Later~*

 

“Ay, caramba! Remind me never to mix tequila, vodka, purple nurples and juice again,” Wade drags a hand across his face as he sits up. He stops though, then he finds that there a bandage around his head.

{Surprise, big guy! You’re not having a hangover!}

[But you probably wish you were]

“Deadpool?” a familiar voice calls out. Opening his eyes Wade is surprised to find himself in his own living room. Which he certainly doesn’t remember coming home to. Spiderman enters into the living room through the kitchen, a steaming mug in his hand.

“Well, this is one bad hallucination. You’re wearing way too many cloths for this to be any fun.” Wade complains, falling back down on the couch and putting a hand over his eyes. He winces then his head collides with the arm of the couch, which makes his eyes blur for a moment.

“Not a hallucination, Deadpool,” the eye roll is audible in Spiderman’s voice as he places the mug on the coffee table, and nudges Deadpool’s feet until he lifts them, so Spiderman can sit on the other end of the couch.

Peeking through the fingers of the hand covering his eyes, Deadpool stares at Spiderman who’s lifting the steaming mug to his lips, mask lifted up to free his mouth.

“Is there a cup for me somewhere?” he points at the mug while giving his best puppy eyes.

Spiderman looks up from his cup tilting his head at Deadpool and then back.

“Well I wasn’t sure then you were gonna wake up, so no,” Deadpool heaves a dramatic sigh at that and is about to start whining, then Spiderman continues:”But – there’s probably more in the pot.”

Deadpool looks back up at Spiderman a wide smile spreading under his mask, but then halting. The puppy eyes return but this time in full force.

“Could you go get it for me?” Spiderman sighs and leans back against the couch. “Pleaaaase?”

“Fine,” Spiderman sighs, setting his mug down and lifting Deadpool’s leg off of him. While walking back into the kitchen, Deadpool beholds the sight of the wondrous Spider-ass.

{Truly glorified}

[I must admit it is indeed quite an amazing sight]

{I knew you would come around to see my point}

“Oh honey! Could you bring me a beer as well?” Deadpool calls in a sing-song tone after Spiderman when he’s certain that the arachnid is in the kitchen. The very loud sigh that emits from the kitchen confirms that the spider indeed heard him.

“Do you really think that now is a good time for alcohol?” Spiderman asks as he re-enters the living room a steaming mug in one hand and two beers in the other.

“Well, maybe not. It is a school night after all, and I haven’t finished all my homework. But you know, then you get SHOT through the head, I think I can be excused.” Deadpool fakes contemplating the question before he grabs after the mug as Spiderman places the beers on the table.

Spiderman shakes his head laughing, using the side of the corner of the table to open one of the beer bottles.

“Well, well, well. Look at you. Spiderman drinking on a school night,” Deadpool says smugly resulting in him get a playful push in the side from Spiderman.

“So you really can’t die?” Spiderman looks at Deadpool while taking a swig of his beer, the mug of coffee seemingly forgotten.

Wade halts, but only for so long, and Spiderman never catches it, so he answers with an air of nonchalant: “Not permanently, no. Temporally yes, but it only last for certain amount a time – depending on the ‘scene’. Many a man and woman – and alien … and mutant … and dinosaur has tried getting rid of this hot piece of ass, but so far no one has had the pleasure. Well at least not in this universe. Not sure about those other ones. I might have died for good in them, but as far as what I’ve seen I haven’t.” After staring blindly at the ceiling for a while he adds: “Maybe it’s time for another dimension hopping …”

Peter just looks at the other man, wondering how this man is for real. One moment he seems so carefree and light-hearted and the next he spew existential questioning sentences like this. Some might write off Deadpool as fun-loving and a lunatic, but man does this guy have a lot of layers. Just like an onion. Or lasagne.

{Shrek reference alert!}

[Danger Will Robinson!]

{Buh, the writer doesn’t even get their second reference.}

[Can you blame them, they’re just a 90’s kid. And only 90’s kids will remember the 90’s]

{Does that mean that only the 60’s kids will remember the 60’s and get that second reference?}

[Shoulda kept it to the Shrek reference]

“I’m not nearly drunk enough to try and understand what you just said,” Spiderman laughs, waving his previous insight in Deadpool’s character off, and focusing on the beer instead.

“Psf, well, if you keep up that pace you’ll be drunk enough in half an hour’s time!” Deadpool laughs as he tips his own beer bottle towards Spiderman’s now half empty one. Spiderman shrugs and huffs a laugh, but clinks his beer bottle against Deadpool’s.

“So, to what are we drinking for?” Spiderman asks, taking upon a classic, if not horrible, impression of a British gentleman.

“Well, Sir Spiderman,” Deadpool says, following Spiderman’s example and taking up his – quite better – impression of a gentleman. “How about ‘to friendship and the American economy’?”

Spiderman tries to suppress his outburst of a laugh, but fails miserably. After regaining some control of his lungs he forces out a: “Dude,” and when falling right back into the laughter.

[Wow he really is quite the lightweight]

{An adorable lightweight, though. But I sense opportunities here}

[Are you thinking what I am thinking?]

Deadpool’s eyes widen under the mask, catching onto what Yellow is suggesting. Well, this could be a lot of fun.

 

*~Many beers later ~*

 

“And then I said ‘You can’t possible wear that! What will the Mayor think?’” Deadpool throws his arms to the side in a broad gesture. If he’s titling a little to the left it because he is on his 20th beer or something.

Spiderman is lying on the floor currently clustering his stomach because it’s hurting after laughing so hard. Spiderman is not anywhere near Deadpool’s amount of beverages. But his pretty wasted too.

Still laughing Peter sits up, or at least tries to. It can be pretty hard when you got a stomach full of beer. Deadpool, seeing his companion having troubles with establishing his balance, gets the amazing idea, that surely he should give the spider a hand. So he extends his hand towards Spiderman, who laughing grabs it. But, tipsy – or rather pretty drunk – as they both are, they both forget Spiderman’s super strength and soon Deadpool is laying on top of Spiderman, and they are both on the floor.

For a moment the two men stare at each other through masks. Then they both burst into hysterical giggles. Spiderman dashes a hand out to push Deadpool away, but Wade grabs the hand before it connects and in turn pushes his own against Spiderman’s shoulder.

Spiderman, sensing what is about to happen raises a challenging eyebrow and wrestles his captured hand out of Deadpool’s grip, using the momentum to dashing the other man on the side of his head.

“Oh, so that is how it is?” Deadpool asks in a fake-threatening tone.

“Hey you started it!” Spiderman replies, trying to suppress another burst of giggles.

“Nah-ah,” Deadpool says adapting his best childlike voice and playfully hitting Spiderman on the shoulder again.

“Oh, now you’ve ask for it!” Spiderman grins as he summons up his super-strength, pushing Deadpool off of him and getting himself on top pinning both of Deadpool’s hands to the floor.

{Uhhh, thing are heating up in here}

Deadpool immediately sense the opportunity in their positions.

[Are we gonna go for it?]

{Can we please go for it?}

“Well, well, looks somebody likes to take control,” Deadpool smirks, not even trying to keep the undertone of flirtation at bay. Keeping his eyes locked with Spiderman’s he drabs himself more across the floor, getting more comfortable.

{WE’RE GOING FOR IT BABY}

[This can’t possibly end well]

Spiderman suddenly realizes their position, foggy brain catching up and then halting.

Oh shit. No, no. Don’t think about this. Do not think about how their entire bodies are pressed against each other. Do not think about how Deadpool is extremely warm and how good that feels. And for god’s sake, do NOT think about how his suit leaves no doubt about how wonderfully the merc is ripped.

Shit. Mission failed. ABORT, ABORT.

{IS THIS ANOTHER GAY BONER MOMENT?!}

[This is like the second, in this fic. Maybe the guy should start thinking in new ways and start revaluating his sexuality]

Spiderman is turning all shades of red under his mask. God, he gotta think of something else than Deadpool wiggling under him. Shit, no, gotta think straight. Ha, and in more ways than one. Summon up the straightness, Parker.

“Well, this is no good,” Deadpool adds after a long awkward pause, finally breaking it. And then Peter’s back is against the floor again. And Deadpool is on top and leaning down into his personal space.

“Well, well, Baby Boy. This is some situation we’ve got ourselves into,” Deadpool breathes, inching closer into Peter’s personal space, his unmasked mouth inching closer to his. Shockingly Peter is tempted to let him, just to see what would happen. Or maybe what would happen if he titled his unmasked chin and lower face and met Deadpool’s face. What could possible go wrong there?

No, shit, no, no. Gotta get your head out of the gutter, Parker. You’ve got a girlfriend, whom you love and are very happy with. You do not need to find out what would happen if you moved those last inches and brushed Deadpool’s scarred lips. You do NOT need to find out if they feel scarred or if they are the one exception and are velvety soft, just like they look.

So in a playful – and very masculine and heterosexual way – Spiderman bats Deadpool on the head with his fist and turns his own face away.

The hit itself isn’t that forceful, but Wade wasn’t exactly holding himself up all that securely. So he falls to the side in a highly unfashionable and graceless matter and lands on his back next to Spiderman.

“Ouchie,” he exclaims surprised, blinking up at the ceiling.

For a while they lay there in an awkward silence both gazing up at the ceiling, breaths both a little frantic. Peter tries desperately to cool the blood in his veins while Wade tries to find his balance points again.

[Well, that went well]

{The writer is such a teaser! It’s not fair! We have _needs_! _Yearnings_!}

[When you put it like that I understand why they’ve chosen to not proceed]

{Ah, come’on! You guys are simply no fun!}

The running heat under Peter’s skin finally calms and Peter is almost about to heave sigh of relief, but keeps it to himself, suddenly struck by the fact that Deadpool might consider it rude.

Out of the corner of his eye he tries to look at Deadpool to gauge his reaction and see how the other man is doing.

Wade is in a haze. Half of him {Yellow} is screaming about how he almost – _almost!_ – kissed Spiderman, and the other half of him [White] is pointing out how that it was indeed almost.

So really he doesn’t exactly know how to proceed from here on. He’s tempted to just take what he almost had with force, but then again, that stands against the few morals that he has. And really he might be a jerk, but he’s not that big of a jerk.

So he turns his head to the side to glance at Spiderman as if the answers would be written across his face. They are indeed not, but he’s pleased to see that the unmasked part of Spiderman’s face is stark red, showing that at least he had some sort of a reaction to what just happen. It just so also happens that he catches Spiderman looking at him, to which he smirks at the other man. Then they burst out in laughter.

“Oh man,” Peter coughs out between laughs. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this!”

“Well,” Wade gets out between breathes. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure that it will happen more frequently, Baby Boy.”

Peter just laughs at that, not really sure what to answer. He sits up and looks around for his beer, finding it lying under the coffee table, empty.

“Ah, shit,” he curses, getting up completely. “I’m gonna go grab another one. Do you want any?” Spiderman asks.

Wade glances up at the coffee table to find that he still got half a beer left. With a big swing of his arm he grabs it and downs the last of its contents.

“If you would please, darling?” he says while making a quite impressive imitation of southern accent.

Peter just shakes his head and laughs. Walking into the kitchen makes him realize quite how tipsy he actually is. He has a pleasant buzz in his head, which just so happens to also affecting his legs. That is probably why he doesn’t notices before its too late, that his legs catches on something on the floor, making him stumble a few steep forward.

“Goddamnit,” he mumbles to himself as he brings his foot up to be inspected. Thankfully for Peter he has quite an excellent sense of balance, which allows him to stand his ground.

Bowing down to inspect further what exactly it was he tripped over, Peter comes across what he thinks must be some kind of tool box. That is at least what it looks like.

Struck by curiosity, Peter gets closer, squinting at the box and finding that it’s filled with some kind of electronic equipment, but what exactly it is, he can’t tell. Upon further investigating – which is just Peter squinting and tilting his head – it looks like some kind of device that is set to some coordinates.

“What the hell?” Peter whispers to himself. He might not know anything about coordinates or geography in general, besides the basic, but as far as he knows this is not how coordinates normally looks. These are set to 619-2015, followed by what Peter assumes is New York’s actually geographic coordinate points and then followed with what he thinks is a date of some kind. Frowning at the odd numbers, Peter lets his gaze wander to a short note hurriedly scribbled across the side of the thing.

_~~Hammer.Inc, NOT TO BE USED.~~ _

_~~Wade, I swear if you use this before I’m done testing, I will kill you. I don’t know how but I will do.~~ _

_Property of ~~Jack Hammer~~ Wade Winston Wilson. (Screw you, Weasel)_

“Wade Wilson …” the name sounds oddly familiar somehow. Where has he heard that before? This obviously belongs to Deadpool, or it does now, so Deadpool’s real name must be Wade.

Peter is struck for moment by the fact that Deadpool has a real name. That Deadpool, like Spiderman, is just an alter ego, and there’s a whole other person beneath that. Lately they have just been blending so much together for Peter, and he feels like Deadpool – or Wade – might know Peter – or Spiderman – just as well, if not better, than most of Peter’s other friends. He can of course blame this on the fact that he has been too busy lately to actually make other friends outside of Gwen, and that is why, but Peter knows that can’t be wholly true.

He likes Deadpool. And somehow he has come to consider him a friend. Even if he just knows him as Spiderman, and they’ve never actually exchanged anything like personal information, and certainly not names.

Maybe … Maybe, Peter’s drunken mind thinks, it’s time to change that. Does he trust Deadpool? Sorta. And he did just stumble upon the other’s real name, so it’s only sorta fair to show him the same curtsey.

“Hey, did you fall asleep out there?” Deadpool – or Wade – calls from the living room. Peter peeks a glace around the corner of the kitchen to look at Wade, who’s still lying on the floor.

“Just a sec,” Peter replies and hurries to the fridge grabbing a new six-pack of beer and stumbling back into the room.

When Peter re-enters the room, Wade is still lying on the floor but he has turned around so he’s now lying on his stomach instead of his back. His legs are raised behind him and he’s cradling his face in his hands, watching Peter as he walks in holding the six-pack high in the air like a trophy.

While he settles back down onto the floor, Dead- …Wade, who grabs a beer and cracks it open. Peter’s gaze wanders over him wondering how he’s going to bring this up. Wade raises his beer to Peter and they clank them together. Screw it, he’s just gonna throw it out there. What’s the worst there can happen, right?

“So, um, Deadpool,” Peter elegantly starts out. Deadpool looks up from the beer that he’s already half way through. “How, um. How did you, you know, decide on your name?”

The reaction to the question is immediate. Wade freeze from top to bottom, going incredible still. Not a single muscle moves and from what part of his face that is uncovered, Peter can see that he pales, making the scars stand out stark.

After moments of tense silence, Wade finally makes a twist at the corner of his mouth and slowly turns towards Peter.

“Why the sudden interest?” Peter is stricken immediately by how cold and deep Wade’s voice has suddenly got. His whole body screams tenseness and Peter sinks, for a moment scared shitless by the other man.

“It’s just …” Peter fumbles, not sure how to lead this on. He really didn’t expect this kind of reaction from Wade. What in his past has made him tense up like this?

“I just thought, you know, it’s an unusual name. Like me, for example, that’s pretty straight forward. I’ve abilities like a spider, I’m a man, no questions asked.” He’s rambling. Shit, backtrack, backtrack. Why oh, why, did he decide to do it this way?

“I was just wondering -”

“It’s a long story, and way too R-rated for you. You would have to have at least five adults with you to go see that movie,” Wade interrupts, leaving no doubt that this part of the conversation is over.

{Was there a smoothly hidden reference to our own movie hidden under there?}

[Smooth]

They sit for a moment in another awkward silence until Wade takes another long drag of his beer, downing the whole thing in one go. Peter looks hesitantly at the other man while he does this, and then decides that it won’t hurt to do him after. But that just ends up in Peter coughing and spitting, as the bitter tang of the beer hits his tongue.

While Peter is in the process of coughing up his lungs Wade finally gets out of his bitter mood and starts laughing at the younger man. Then Peter regains his air and turns to pout at Deadpool it just makes him laugh even more, and Peter soon joins him.

Then the laughter quiets again, Wade takes another beer out as Peter puts his away for the moment.

“Um, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, trying not to bring back the bitter end, and quickly proceeds after he has seen Wade’s slight incline of his head. “I was just wondering, because, I’ve started thinking of you as a friend, Deadpool.” Wade turns to look at him at this, which just makes Peter blush and hurry on. “And I thought, since we were friends, that I wanted to tell you something about me. You know, buddies exchanging secret and such,” he hurries out the last, nervously laughing at the end of it, to cover up how nervous he feels about all of this.

Wade just sits stunned not exactly sure what to say or even to think. Even the boxes have quieted for this.

“Oh, okay?” Wade mumbles, completely stunned.

{We should get Spidey drunk more often. All this good shit comes out of it}

[So much plot can be extracted when characters are drunk and out of their minds]

“Spidey, I’m flattered, I really am, but …” Wade tries to say, but Spiderman cuts him off.

“No, let me get this out.” Peter takes a deep breath and steadies himself. It’s quite hard for him to focus completely though, head buzzing with but thoughts, butterflies and the effect of the alcohol.

Slowly he reaches over his head with both hands and grabs the edge of his mask. Wade takes a sharp inhale as Peter lifts the mask off and uncovers his face.

Hazel brown eyes shyly look up at Deadpool and a nervous smile spreads over a handsome face. A hand racks through a bundle of messy brown hair and wow, Wade is a goner.

“Wade Wilson. My name is Peter Parker. I’m Spiderman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, friends, friends https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Soah1302SM&index=8&list=PL-LlP179n-C1PjOZ9Ea-yJOgqfDrW_hro


	6. "How About the Good Old Times?" - 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Huh?” Wade sits up, rubbing his eyes looking around. “Pete, what are you doing on the floor?”  
> “Um, nothing,” Peter says, getting to his feet and rubbing his bottom. He is about to climb back up the ladder then another thunder crash rolls through, making him jump.  
> “Pete? You okay?” Wade asks, suddenly much more awake.  
> “It’s nothing, Wade. Just go back to sleep.” Peter is not sure if he should crawl back up in his bunk or if he should go into Uncle Ben and Aunt May.  
> “Pete? Are you scared of the thunder?” Wade asks sitting up properly in his bunk.  
> “N-no,” Peter says, but then the next roll of thunder strikes making him flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, y'all!  
> ...  
> I'm terriblely sorry about this late ass update .... things happened ... like school ... and personal shit .... which was shit ...
> 
> But you don't want to hear about that and I have been keeping you too long from reading this next chapter! So go on, have yourself some lovely F&F*!!!!
> 
> *stands for Fluff and Flashback

“Comeon, boys! Time to go to bed” Uncle Ben laughs as he pokes his head into the living room where the boys have been watching a movie. Though both of their eyes have gotten pretty heavy and they are hardly watching it anymore.

“But, Uncle Ben -” Peter whines. “The movie is not over!” He says at the same time as a yawn makes its way onto his tired features. And as it is with yawns, it is contagious and soon Wade is yawing too.

“Well, I’m sure the movie will be there tomorrow as well,” Uncle Ben says. “Comeon boys, up you go. The bunk bed is waiting for you!”

The boys look at each other. When Wade sighs and gets up to turn the TV off. Peter gets off of the couch as well. Side by side they walk up the stairs to the cabin’s bathroom, where they brush their teeth. Then after having both said goodnight to Aunt May and Uncle Ben, the boys make it into their shared room.

If you’re wondering what is going on, let me clear it up for you.

It’s the summer 1998. Peter and Wade have been friends for little over a year now, ever since the Wilson family moved in next door. Mrs Wilson, a very fragile and pale woman, had met May Parker one day while doing laundry in their backyard. The women had fallen into talk and had soon learned that their boys were about the same age. May had insisted that they met, and a little unsure Mrs. Wilson had agreed.

Now after a year, a routine had evolved. Whenever Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were having a fight, or whenever Mrs. Wilson was having a particularly bad sick-day, or whenever Mr. Wilson stayed home from work, Wade would go over to the Parkers.

So when summer vacation had come around and the Parkers where planning on going out of state for a week-long vacation, the boys had begged for Wade to come with them. Not only have they been playing together almost every day, but Wade knew – deep down in his bones – that a week without the chance to escape his own house or see his best friend would be hell.

So Uncle Ben went over to the Wilson’s and politely asked Mr. Wilson if Wade was allowed to go with them. At first Mr. Wilson was reluctant, but after a short discussion with Ben, he was convinced that it might be a good idea for the boy to get some fresh air.

“He never had much of the Canadian air, but I guess out-state America will do,” Mr Wilson had laughed. Uncle Ben didn’t find this particular funny, but he had shaken Mr. Wilson’s hand.

A week later Wade and Peter had been sitting on the backseat of the Parkers car, the trunk packed with supplies for a week. The boys had been excited and had been talking about all the things they were going to do then they got to be cabin.

So by the end of the first day, after the boys have been exploring the forest and roasting marshmallows over the bonfire, they both collapse on the couch and try to watch the superhero movie that they both agreed on watching.

Now when they had arrived at the cabin Wade and Peter had had a minor argument about who was going to have the upper bunk bed. In the end Peter had won by pointing out that Wade farts in his sleep and Peter would be suffocated if he had to lie below that.

So now Peter crawls into the upper bunk and Wade gets comfortable in the lower.

“’Night, Wade,” Peter mumbles, very close to dosing off.

“’Night Pete,” Wade is already half asleep but just conscious enough to mumble his goodnights out.

It’s in the middle of the night when Peter sits straight up in his bunk. It’s thundering outside.

Now Peter is of course not afraid of thunder. He just … dislikes it a lot. He is about to cry out for Uncle Ben or Aunt May, but then he hears shuffling in the bunk below him. And then he remembers that he can’t just call for the adults for that would wake Wade. And that would be rude, wouldn’t it?

So Peter sits in his bunk, not able to decide what to do. That is until the next crash of thunder rolls in. This has Peter out of his bunk and crawling down the ladder. But on his way down, another thunder roll comes through and he slips and ends up falling to the floor.

He lands quite heavily, but Peter is a big boy and he doesn’t cry out. But he does make enough sound to startle Wade awake.

“Huh?” Wade sits up, rubbing his eyes looking around. “Pete, what are you doing on the floor?”

“Um, nothing,” Peter says, getting to his feet and rubbing his bottom. He is about to climb back up the ladder then another thunder crash rolls through, making him jump.

“Pete? You okay?” Wade asks, suddenly much more awake.

“It’s nothing, Wade. Just go back to sleep.” Peter is not sure if he should crawl back up in his bunk or if he should go into Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

“Pete? Are you scared of the thunder?” Wade asks sitting up properly in his bunk.

“N-no,” Peter says, but then the next roll of thunder strikes making him flinch.

“Maybe a little, but I’m not a baby!” Peter proclaims turning around to face Wade, a pout in place on his face.

“I was not saying that,” Wade mumbles. “It’ll be over soon, don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” He says laying back down in his bunk.

Another thunder crash makes Peter flinch and he starts shaking. He’s still standing in the middle of the room indecisive about what to do.

Wade lets out a heavy sigh. Then he scouts closer to the wall and throws the blankets off in the now open side of the bunk.

“Get in,” Wade mumbles patting the open space next to him.

“What?” Peter hiccups, just a tiny bit shocked.

“Well, since you have now woken the both of us, and since you’re not climbing up that ladder, you might as well sleep in my bunk.” Wade says all of this while looking up at the upper bunk, and very much not looking at Peter.

Peter considers this for a moment. Really Wade’s argument isn’t bad, and it would probably be better to sleep besides someone else, than just lying on the floor.

So Peter crawls into Wade’s bunk and pulls the blanket over himself.

Another thunder crash rolls in, and Peter flinches. Sighing Wade scouts closer to Peter and offers up on of his hands. Peter stares at said hand for a while, before taking it and scouting even closer to Wade.

“Try and sleep, al’right, Pete?” Wade mumbles and closes his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” Peter mumbles back. He wiggles on the bunk trying to be more comfortable, which ends up in him getting even closer to Wade. Then the next thunder roll comes, Wade squeezes Peter’s hand as Peter flinches. They lay there for a while, not sleeping and not talking. Just waiting the thunder out. Slowly the seconds between the light flash and the sound, reseeds to 25 seconds. Wade is already sleeping again and Peter is slowly dozing off as well.

 

*~Next morning~*

 

Peter wakes up in the morning when a heavy weight settles on top of him. This said heavy weight turns out to be snoring and quite loudly.

“Waaade,” Peter groans and tries to push the other boy off of him.

“Wha’?” Wade mumbles, slowly starting to wake. Being pushed in the side will do that to you.

“Get OFF!” Peter tries to push him again, but Wade doesn’t buck.

“Just a bit longer, I was having quite a nice dream,” Wade mumbles drifting towards conscious faster by the second.

“You’re heavy,” Peter grunts. “Get. Off.” He finally manages to roll Wade off of him, which makes Wade end up on his tummy.

“Uf!” Wade huffs out, making a face. “How rude.”

“Well you were the one on top of me. That’s pretty rude too,” Peter argues sitting up and looking down at Wade.

“Well, I can’t help it if you’re pretty comfortable to lie on. ‘tis really not ma fault,” Wade mumbles still in the process of becoming fully conscious.

Peter is about to crack a smile but then a wave of air catches his nose and it’s filled with a very unpleasant smell.

“Ew, gross! Did you fart?!”

“Ah, yes. Always gotta have my morning fart, otherwise it’s not a real morning.” The pleased and smug grin on Wade’s face turns into a laugh as Peter shoves him – a little harshly – against the wall to which Wade retaliates. This is the start of what the boys later name the “Mighty Morning Fight”, which becomes a ritual over the vacation for them to have. The fight is only interrupted when Aunt May or Uncle Ben comes to collect them and scold them for making such a fuss. But their words are never too harsh when they hear the gleeful laughter of both boys.

The next morning after the thunder, the rain has quieted down, and there is no thunder in sight. The adults both declare that today is going to be spent inside. That doesn’t seem to bother the boys though. Instead they take the opportunity to stay inside and turn the living room into one giant pillow fort. When Aunt May discovers this, she is first upset, but after hearing the laughter that comes from inside the fort, she doesn’t stay mad too long. Instead, she and Ben make waffles and hot coco which is then served to the two boys.

“I wish I could show it to her, Ben,” May says that night when they are about to go to sleep. Ben looks up from the book his currently reading to look at her over his glasses.

“What do you mean, darling?” He asks, a furrow burrowing into his forehead which is becoming more and more permanent.

“Mrs. Wilson,” May elaborates. Ben huffs, catching up with his wife’s train of thought, and he closes his book and puts it away.

“I know, honey,” he says as he intertwines his fingers with her.

“I just wished I could show her, how happy Wade is. How much he smiles. How good of a child he actually is. Nothing like what that horrible man makes him out to be,” she whispers, tears on the edge of her vision, though she keeps them at bay.

Ben thinks of this for a moment. Then an idea comes to his mind.

“How about one of the days I take the boys into the town and we buy a postcard so that Wade can write home to his mom, telling her what they have been up to? That way Wade can tell her himself.”

May looks up at her husband, a loving smile spreading across her face.

“I knew there was good reason why I married you,” she says as she cups his face with one hand. Ben gently places his hand upon hers.

The next morning the sun is shining so Ben and May decides to take the boys out kite-flying.

“KITES! KITES! KITES! KITES! KITES!” the boys chant as they run towards the hill both clustering the kites close to their chests.

“Race you to the top!” Wade yells over his shoulder and holding the kite up above his head. They both start giggling, racing ahead of Ben and May, who both smile at them.

The race is won by Wade who parades around holding his kite high above his head and cheering himself on. Peter just smiles at him and fake complains that the only reason Wade won was because he had a head start. What Peter doesn’t say is that he actually could have outraced Wade, but decided that the doofy smile on Wade’s face was a better price.

When May and Ben finally make it to the top the boys already have the kites high in the air and are both to fascinated with them to notice the picnic that the couple lays out.

When a sudden burst of wind makes Peter and Wade’s kites collides and falls to the ground the boys finally starts noticing their surroundings. The picnic has been set out and the boys soon join May and Ben telling them all about how their kites surely had reached high above the clouds and that Wade is pretty sure that his touched the sun. Peter frowns at this but doesn’t protest. Instead he claims that his kite reached at least the moon.

“How could it reached the moon? The moon isn’t even out yet?!” Wade protests, throwing a finger into the air, pointing at the clear sky, were there clearly aren’t any moons to be seen.

“Well, maybe I wasn’t talking about our moon,” Peter huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. May and Ben exchange amused looks over their sandwiches but doesn’t interfere in this very serious discussion.

Wade, who apparently has noticed Peter’s sour mood, stares wide-eyed at him. “There are more moons than ours?” He asks, seemingly star struck. This is news to him.

At Wade’s reaction Peter looks up, any trace of bitterness evaporating from his face.

“Yeah, there are like a bunch of them! There are even some planets, like Neptune and Jupiter that has more one than one!” Peter explains excitedly, overjoyed to find that Wade takes an interested in something he knows a ton about.

“REALLY?!” Wade is bouncing on his knees now, extremely excited about this news and more than happy to listen to Peter explaining all about different planets that has different moon and how some of the planets aren’t even made of earth, but are just giant gas clouds. Wade listens intensely, staring wide-eyed at Peter throughout the whole lecture.

Again May and Ben send each other knowing looks, and padding themselves on the back for giving Peter that astronomy book which he had begged for, for months.

Alas, the kites goes forgotten as Peter explains all the things he can remember from the book and Wade listens intensely and asks the odd question once in a while, like “do there live mermaids on Neptune?” or “Is Pluto dog-shapped?”

 

That night the boys go to bed exhausted but cheerful. They both fall asleep with smiles on their faces. Peter shares Wade’s bunk. There are no questions asked about it. Just a silent agreement.

 

The next morning Ben takes the boys into town. The sky is clear and many people are in town sitting at cafes enjoying lemonade. Ben takes the boys to one where Peter gets Cola and Wade get Orange Juice. After that they go to convenience store where they find postcards with pictures of the landscapes on them. After seeing Wade getting one, Peter insists on getting one as well.

They sit down at the park where Ben hands them both a pen and then lays back to rests in the grass.

Peter immediately starts writing his even he doesn’t know who he is going to address it to. Wade on the other hand sits and stares at the card, eyes trailing the river that cuts through the meadow and the threes reaching for the clear sky with a bright sun shining down on all of it. He really likes this one.

“Why aren’t you writing anything?” Peter interrupts Wade’s train of thought making him jump and clutch the card to his chest in surprise. Then he relaxes and slowly looks down on the card again.

“I don’t know what to write …” he says, even though that’s not all.

“Well why don’t you tell her about the kites? Or about the pillow fort?” Peter starts listing all the things that comes to his mind, but Wade just looks sadly at the card.

“It’s not good enough. That’s just all silly stuff. She doesn’t want to hear about that.”

“Of course she wants to hear about it!” Peter says excitedly raising his arms high above his head to. He doesn’t realize that Wade is for once in a serious mood.

“Well, I dunno … I don’t know how to write it, it’ll just be poopy.”

Peter looks up at Wade who’s still looking down on his card, a finger tracing over the river that cuts through the picture. Frowning Peter looks down on his own card. He doesn’t actually have anyone to write to. He could always address it to Aunt May but that doesn’t actually make any sense since she’s already with them. Determination fills Peter as he squares his shoulders and clutches his card in his fist.

“Here,” he says as he thrust his arm out to Wade, the finished card reflecting the sun and shining as if it holds an inner glow.

A surprised looks spreads wide over Wade’s face as he looks back and forth between the outstretched card and Peter’s determined face.

“But …?” he starts, but Peter interrupts him immediately.

“No buts,” Peter says while shaking his head. “Take it.”

Hesitantly Wade reaches out an unsure hand and takes the card. As he pulls back his arm, Peter’s face lights up.

“Now you have to address it and then we can send it to her right away!”

Something inside Wade’s chest makes a weird sound, which comes out as a sniffle as he rubs his nose in his sleeve, giving him an excuse to look away from the other boy. This also makes him able to hide the fond smile and the single tear that gets caught in the sleeve as well.

Then he turns back to look at Peter a wide smile is spread across his face, showing of a couple of missing teeth.

“Thank you, Pete!” he shouts as he leaps to hug the other boy tight.

A surprised yelp escapes Peter but quickly turns into an excited laughter as he hugs the other boy back.

“Of course, Wade.” Hesitantly he adds: “That’s what best friends are for … ?”

Butterflies are bouncing all around Peter’s stomach and it feels to Peter as if some of them have made their way to his throat as he is filled with nervousness. He’s feeling extremely insecure and his insecurities only rise with the stretch out silence on Wade’s part. What if he doesn’t think they are best friends? What if he realizes that Peter is a total loser and that the other kids are right, because no one ever likes Peter, right?

Wade sits frozen not quite sure what he just heard. Did Peter just say what he thinks he said? Does he really mean that? Doesn’t he know how lousy Wade is? Doesn’t he realize that Wade is a sad loser with a dad that drinks too much of the adult juice and a mother who is often sick?

No, no, even if he didn’t mean it, this is the closest Wade may ever come to a best friend. He can’t let this go, even if Peter must have hit his head real bad, if he wants to have Wade for a best friend.

“Yes, of course Pete.”

_‘Thank you, Peter. You’re my best friend too. Please don’t leave me’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I'll have time to update again, so please don't expect it to come around soon. I'll try my best to lessen the period of time between updates as best as I can!


	7. The Best Idea Ever - 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is completely frozen. Shock has him caught in his own head. Nothing, nothing ever, could have prepared him for this. Things, memories, feelings, thoughts, visions and smells all come rushing back to him. All of this should have been forgotten, should have been erased and torn apart after what they did to him. Weapons X should have torn this all apart. There shouldn’t been any trace of it left.
> 
> Yet still. Here are memories long forgotten to Wade. Memories of a time that was so much simpler, yet still so painful. Memories from ages passed that he shouldn’t be able to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey. Guess who isn't dead? THIS GUY!!!! And he's updating! Wow, what weird sugar-high is this?!  
> But jeez, guys? You guys are amazing? Here I am, not updating, but you guys keep those kudos coming and those lovely comments, and it warms a fella's heart. Thank you all, so much!  
> Now, I hope I don't break too many of your hearts with this chapter!  
> Enjoy!

‘Peter Parker’

Peter Parker.

( _Why is that name so haunting familiar? Who’s Peter Parker? Why do I know this name?_ )

 

“ _That’s what best friends are for_ ”

 

( _What? Where did that come from? Who was that? That was a child voice? A child?_ )

 

Wade is completely frozen. Shock has him caught in his own head. Nothing, nothing ever, could have prepared him for this. Things, memories, feelings, thoughts, visions and smells all come rushing back to him. All of this should have been forgotten, should have been erased and torn apart after what they did to him. Weapons X should have torn this all apart. There shouldn’t been any trace of it left.

Yet still. Here are memories long forgotten to Wade. Memories of a time that was so much simpler, yet still so painful. Memories from ages passed that he shouldn’t be able to remember.

But they are all there. Memories of sunny days and dark nights. Of the smell of alcohol in a home, that never felt like that. Memories of the taste of home-baked goods and kind smiles. A house so similar to his own, but so, so different. The feeling of another hand in his, a tiny and small one, just like his, but held together they seem to hold so much more power. The sound of another child’s laughter and a vision of messy brown hair and glasses that was always a little askew.

And a name.

_Peter Parker._

 

“Wade? Wade, can you hear me?” That voice. It’s changed but now that he knows it sounds just the same. Oh god, why did he never realizes this before. It’s so painfully obvious. Oh god, he can’t deal with this.

[The big guys is freaking out. Should we do something?]

Oh great, at least the boxes has come back online, just what was needed.

{Well if we weren’t freaking out this would be the perfect moment for some lips-to-lips action}

[Get your mind out of the gutter, the big guy is too freaked out to even be thinking about it]

Quick, quick do something. He can’t have any suspicion that we know. God, how is it that stupid Disney song goes? Conceal, don’t peal? Don’t let him blow? Ah, fµ©£ it.

“That’s one hell of a pretty name, baby boy. P.P. huh? Funny how both our names are alliterations, huh? P.P. and W.W.W. Though, mine sounds more like the things you put in front of internet urls. Yours sound more like peepee. Like a wiener. HA! Your initials sound like a wiener!”

Peter looks shocked about the sudden outburst, clearly not expecting this to be the first things to come out of the merc’s mouth, right after his big reveal. But then again, yeah, he should have expected this from Wade.

Wade watches as Peter’s face goes from blank shock to just about the most adorable half-smile completed with downcast eyes and a small giggle. Oh god. This man is going to be the end of him. How is he going to comp with this? It was so much easier having this small crush thing when he didn’t know about the adorable face beneath the mask. Or the fact that they share childhood memories. That they were besties long before the point he thought they were besties. Oh god, what is he gonna do.

Wade is pretty sure he has been crushing on Peter since he was 6. Shit.

{Kinda ridicules how you’ve had hopeless dreams since you were in diapers}

[Kinda sad you mean]

{Kinda pathetic, is what I meant!}

[You know what they say: Pathetic as a child, pathetic in life!]

( _No, no, no. Please leave me_ )

[No can do friendo]

{Yeah you’re stuck with us, you pathetic loser! Other people my leave you and get tired of your crazy shit, but we ain’t going nowhere!}

 

Peter is watching all of this happening from the outside of Wade’s head. First was the shock. That one was apparent even through the mask. It’s there, bright as day. Then the surprised expression follows next. It’s shines through and it hits him again that Wade is still wearing his mask, and yet some many emotions carry through it.

Then Peter is pretty sure he sees some kind of … realisation? The surprise and the shock melts into some kind of stat of recognizing. And it doesn’t seem like the good kind. More like the “shit, fµ©ƛ” kind of recognizing. But then it’s gone. And Wade is blabbering. Very Wade like. Too Wade like. Like it’s no big deal. But it is. Wade recognized him. Somehow. How that is even possible goes completely over Peter’s head. He doesn’t understand it. There’s no way.

Something also happens then Peter looks way for a second. It’s only a moment, but then he looks back at Wade, there seem to be some kind of wall up. Like he’s shut down, locked the door, thrown the key away and gone. Like he’s a pilot on an aeroplane and has gone from flying it himself, to leaving it on autopilot.

Peter doesn’t know what to say. Or what to do. He’s once again aware of the fact that he’s mask-less and Wade is not, and he’s starting to feel a little naked. He rubs a hand nervously through his hair again, trying not to feel too self-conscious. Maybe he was pushing it too far. God, he should never make decisions when he’s drunk. It’s a bad idea. Bad, bad brain.

But then Wade is talking again.

“Hey, um, so I know you just revealed your ‘big, black secret’ and, um, I would normally, you know, return the favour, because I’m a gentleman, but, uh … for the sake of your sanity and the sake of your stomach I probably shouldn’t. So um, let’s just call it a night with the secrets, huh?”

Wade isn’t looking at him. Is that bad? It’s probably bad. But maybe he’s just not ready. Goddamnit Peter, you sprung this on him too early. Reading the signals wrong. Just like usual. No, no, it’s not that. He’s just not ready.

“Of course Wade. If that’s what makes you comfortable,” Peter says while giving Wade his most sincere smile. It’s not Wade’s fault that Peter is a giant idiot who apparently doesn’t have a filter. He just needs time. Of course he does. That’s a pretty big secret to have sprung upon you.

“So, um … wanna watch The Princess Bride?” Wade asks, not looking at Peter and already digging through his box of dvd’s.

Peter has the urge to reply ‘as you wish’, but given the moment’s awkwardness and the second meaning the words carry, he decides against it.

“Sure,” is the lame answer Peter ends up producing.

 

~*~

 

Watching The Princess Bride has probably never been this awkward. The tension between them, which is normally fun with something extra, is all gone. Instead, there is the big glooming something, which is uncomfortable and awkward, and by the end of the movie none of them really watched the movie.

Peter leaves soon after, with an awkward wave and a goodbye. He kept the mask on during the movie, because he felt like it would be weird to put it on. But he had felt awkward and uncomfortable the whole time, fingers itching to put the mask back on again. Sitting in Wade’s window looking out on the New York skyline calms him down a lot and finally putting the mask back on feels like taking a hot shower. It makes him feel better and he is about to turn around and say something to Wade. But then he looks over his shoulder the other man is standing with his back turned to him.

“See ya, Pete. Get home safe and such. Don’t trip over all the crime in the city,” he says, back still turned and with a wave over his shoulder.

Peter feels his heart sinking, but he can’t for the life of him come up with something to say. So he doesn’t. He says his goodbyes and swings home. Gwen is sleeping when he enters their bedroom. She probably didn’t expect to see him home, and he tries his best not to wake her. Instead he sits on the edge of the bed. The mask comes off easily and he stares down at it. What happened today? He thought everything was going fine between them. More than fine actually. Awesome, really. But tonight? Tonight everything changed. And he can’t help but feel that it’s all his fault. It’s got to be.

 

~*~

 

{Oh, now you fucked up}

[Real smooth there, fella]

{Real good landing that. Could you have made it more awkward? The air was so filled with tension that it could have suffocated someone}

[It would have been nice it if was us, wouldn’t it?]

{Too bad, you’re stuck here}

[No running away from it]

( _No running away, you say?_ )

Wade opens his eyes. It feels like the whole world is burning around him. Expect for this idea. It’s the best idea ever. The idea to rule all ideas. It’s not even an idea anymore, it’s a life style. When things get too hard or you can’t face the facts anymore, what do you do? What is it that you can always rely on to take you away from your problems.

Running. You run. You run away and you never look back. And you never come back.

Wade gets up. He gets up and he suits up. He changes out of his current suit. It feels to clean, if that makes any sense. It doesn’t, but it feels weird on his skin. Everything feels weird. The fuzziness inside of his head isn’t helping. It’s probably only making it worse. Much, much worse, and Wade can’t think. Can’t make coherent thoughts. They all just sort of clump together into an ugly mess. Which, you know, Wade is used to. But this is a different kind of mess. It’s making him nauseous and he feels like he is going to be sick. His insides are turning and twisting. Oh god, how far is there to the bathroom.

Wade stumbles into the wall near the toilet and sinks down on all four and letting go. He’s lucky that his mouth was already uncovered, because he has no break between hitting the floor and the convulsions that twists through his whole body. Everything is coming out, and it’s horrible and it taste vile and smells that way too.

{Best date ever!}

 

~*~

 

Peter wakes up to a text message from on his "work phone", saying it's from the Avengers. Something about a big important thing that he has to go to, that is important for the sake of all human kind or something, probably. Now, normally Peter would be on it like a fly on a turd, because it’s the Avengers calling on him. Peter doesn’t go.

Gwen has already left for school by then, and there’s a message saying that she’ll be home late, because of classes. Classes. Peter should go to his classes. But yet again, Peter doesn’t go.

Instead he spends the morning in bed. Thanks to his healing factor – however big or small it might be – he doesn’t really have a hangover. He’s mostly fine. The only bad feeling inside of him is just confusion. Which is actually the only feeling inside of him.

Peter has been feeling like this ever since he left Wade’s place. He thought that maybe it would pass when he had had some decent sleep and got things settle in his head. But this morning he wakes and finds that he is still mostly in the same state of mind. This is why he doesn’t drink. It makes him all weird. Nothing good ever happens when you’re drunk. Or after 2 am. That’s one of the only good lessons he learned from HIMYM. When it’s after 2 am, don’t make random decisions. It’ll just end up weird for both you and the other person. Which in this case, it really did.

 _You finally did it, Parker. You finally stepped in it big time_ , Peter thinks to himself as he lies in bed, eyes following the way the sunlight hits the dust in the room. _Really nailed that one, didntcha?_

Peter rolls over, smashing his face down into the pillow. If he just dies now, everything will be better, right? Right? That’s how it works, isn’t it?

Then Peter wakes again, it’s 1 pm and it’s his “work” cell phone who’s the sinner. It’s vibrating and it’s not stopping. Damn it, he needs to remember to put in a goddamn voicemail. But he honestly can’t be bothered. Not right now anyway. Right now he would rather suffer in his misery.

But then the phone has been going off for about 2 minutes, Peter finally surrenders. Growling and making a lot of pitiful noises, Peter finally swipes his phone to answer the call.

“Spider-man here,” he grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Finally! We’ve been trying to reach you for DAYS!” Tony Stark’s voice rings out through the phone, and Peter winces at the high pitch of it.

“Sorry Mr. Stark. I was kind of in the middle of my beauty sleep.”

“Well too bad, kid, you’re going to get up, and get your ass over here. And that’s right now, underoos!” And with that Tony hang up.

Peter looks at the phone for a good solid moment. The Avengers are calling him. Fact: Peter is not an Avenger. Second Fact: Peter is probably the biggest fan of the Avengers in the whole universe (possibly only bested by Wade. That dropping feeling in his guts returns briefly with the thought of Wade). Third fact: Peter just had a call from friggen Tony Stark himself. Fourth fact: Peter is starting to get less sleepy and starting to freak out.

Tony, friggen, Stark. Called him. Just now.

Peter is up and getting in the shower and washing off the sleep sweat that has been clinging to him. As soon as he’s just remotely dry, Peter jumps right back into his suit. Spider-man is out and about within minutes of the end of the call.

He’s swinging through the streets his head so caught up in excitement that he’s halfway to the tower then he realizes that he’s without the underpart of his suit and his Captain America undies are showing to the whole of New York. With cheeks burning bright, he heads back home at the speed of light, sadly noting the flashes of camera phones going off below him.

Once again, this time with pants on, Spiderman heads to the Avenger/Stark Tower.

Landing unsurely on the roof/balcony/whatever/place-where-you-enter-when-you’re-landing-from-the-air, Peter stands for a moment taking it all in. Below him the streets of New York are buzzing and alive, cars rushing/waiting in queue and pedestrians walking across the streets or going into shops.

But up here, up here, he’s standing on the Avengers tower. He’s about to meet the Avengers. Like for reals. Not just stalking them when they are patrolling around New York. Sure, he has bumped into them a couple of times on patrols, but he’s mostly been too star struck to really say anything intelligent to any of them.

“Hey, kid?! Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to come inside?” Tony Stark’s voice echoes out, and Peter turns to find him standing by a door holding it open. He has an eyebrow raised and is slung casually against the wall. Peter notes that he’s got a bandage around one of his hands and that his hair looks quite ruffled. He looks awesome. He IS awesome.

Peter shakes himself, like that is going to shake his star struck thoughts away. Hoo boy.

 _Get yourself together, Parker! Man up, otherwise Tony Stark is going to think you’re a dork. Can’t have that!_ Peter thinks to himself and straightens himself. Then he bounces over to Ironman.

“Mr. Stark! I am so pleased to meet you. Officially, that is. Outside of battle, that is. My name is Spiderman! I am a big fan of your work and all you’ve done, and _please can I have your autograph?_ ” The last part is mostly whispered and hopefully not heard by the other man, as Peter energetically, and quite forcefully, shakes Stark’s hand.

“O-okay, calm down there, grasshopper. I need this hand, no need to squeeze it to mush, kid,” Tony laughs heartfelt. “Come on in. I have some big news for you, kid,” he says, and slings an arm over Spiderman’s shoulder. Holy crap, Tony Stark is touching him. Is this a dream? It’s got to be right? Oh god, he can die a happy man now.

“More like an offer, Tony. We don’t wanna force him into anything.” Peter freeze on the spot at the sound of Steve Rogers’ voice as the man makes his way over to Spiderman and Tony. Steve friggen Rogers. Captain America in the flesh. Peter thinks he’s about to faint.

“S-s-sir! It’s an honour to meet you! I’ve been a fan of yours, ever since I was a child. I used to dress up as you for Halloween!” Peter says, leaping forwards and grasping Steve’s hand, once again giving one hell of a handshake. Steve seems luckily to be amused about this.

“It’s an honour to meet you too, Spiderman. You have done a lot of good for this city. And that is why we have invited you here today,” Steve says as he gestures for Spiderman to follow him into another room. Wondering Peter enters, only to freeze as soon as he steps into the room.

It’s a long room with a table going down the middle. On either side of the table sits Avengers after Avenger, talking casually between each other, but as he enters, they all look up. Hawkeye, Black Widow, Falcon, Scarlet Witch, Vision, Ant-man, Wasp, Wolverine, Thor, Bruce Banner, She Hulk and Captain Marvel.

“Holy crap,” Peter whispers. Is it just him or is it getting hot in here?

Steve Rogers guides him the chair at the front of the table, so that he can be facing every single one of the present Avengers. They are all looking at him, smiling and nodding at him, like they are all know exactly who he is.

“Spiderman,” Tony starts as he sits down across from him at the other end of the table. “You’re probably wondering why we’ve called you in today.”

Peter shifts in his seat. Hell yeah he’s wondering. He’s got no clue why the Avengers would be calling on him. Unless they are about to scold him. Shit, has he murdered someone? Shit, when did he do that? God, he really hopes he hasn’t murdered anyone. That would be like the worst.

“We have an offer for you, Spiderman,” Steve says next to him, as Hawkeye pours him a cup of coffee for him. “We were wondering what you would say to a chance to become an Avenger?”

…

“…” Peter stares at Steve for a good couple of seconds, jaw dropped, not quite sure he heard that right. He sticks a finger in his ear, as to picks some dirt out of it, pretending the mask in the way to do that.

“Come again, I think I heard that wrong?”

“We’re serious, bub, you do some good stuff out there,” Wolverine says as he leans forward to meet Spiderman’s eyes. Damn, that’s Wolverine. His hair is just as spiky as Wade said. Damn, he’s so cool.

“But – but – But I am just – I’m nothing compared to you guys! I mean I can’t do magic, I don’t have a cool shield, I don’t save the world! That’s you guys! I am nothing compared to you guys! I’m an ant in comparison!” Peter says gesturing with his arms to all of them and back to himself.

“Um, not to ruin your metaphor, but there’s nothing wrong with being an ant,” Ant-man joins in. Damn, his suit is so cool. If only Peter could study it, he could learn so much from Hank Pym. Though, he could probably learn a thing or two from Scott as well. “And, buddy, we’ve all been there. I remember then I was in your shoes. I nearly fainted!” Wasp lays a hand on his shoulder and turns to smile at Peter.

“What Scott is trying to say, is that you might think you’re small compared to us. But truth is, we’re small as well. We are all just humans like yourself, who try our best,” she says, smiling and glancing around at her fellow Avengers who all nod acknowledging.

“And your best, has proved to be Avenger-worthy,” Hawkeye smirks, nudging a cup of coffee closer to Spiderman.

“I – I don’t know what to say …” Peter says, looking bewildered between all their kind faces.

“It’s quite simple, kid. Yes or no. We’ll understand if it’s too much pressure on your party life, but we would like to help mould you into a prime-time Avenger,” Tony quips in, leaning forward on his elbows that are rested on the table.¨

“I – I – YES! Yes, thank you so much! I’ll do my absolute best! I won’t disappoint you, I promise!” Peter gets up, and before any of the Avengers know it they are all having their hands shaken by an overeager Spiderman, who’s not calming down.

“Okay, okay, buddy, take it easy. Let’s get you settle and familiar with the place, huh?” Tony says, after Peter has shaken his hand for a good 2 minutes and showering in thanks.

 

~*~

 

“Wade! Wade, are you here?! I got something awesome to tell you!” Peter calls out as soon as he’s climbing through the window to Wade’s apartment. He was barely out of the Avenger building before he was on his way to Wade. All thoughts of last night are completely erased from his mind, and all he’s thinking of is sharing this news with Wade. Damn is he gonna be jealous! But as soon as Peter has become settled, he’s going to show the Avengers how awesome Deadpool is, and they are going to want him in their gang. And then they can be team mates! Avengers Team Mates!

But all Peter’s happy thoughts are completely washed away when he enters the apartment and finds it empty. All the clutter and dirty clothes are gone. All the takeout bags and menus are nowhere to be found. But most frighten of all: Wade isn’t here. All of his personal things are still here, but the “Wade” feel is gone.

“Wade?” Peter calls out more questioningly. Maybe he just decided to clean up and then took a nap? Peter checks the bedroom. The bed is made. All Wade’s civilian clothes are gonna. All he’s suits are gone. All his _weapons_ are gone. Wade is gone.

“Wade,” Peter says one more time. This time it’s not a question but more of a silent cry. Wade is gone. He’s left him.

But why? Was it because of yesterday? Was it because Peter sprung the news on him too fast? All Peter’s insecurities from this morning returns to him and floods over him. Dizzy Peter sits on the clean couch in the living room. He rests his elbows on his knees and hides his face in his hands.

It’s all his fault, isn’t it? He's screwed up, one of the best friendships he’s had in years, and it’s all his fault. And now Wade is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shameless self promoting, sorry about that*  
> Hey guys, you should all totally go follow my art/fic blog over at words-of-a-songbird.tumblr.com/  
> I swear you won't regret it!


	8. How's it Hanging, Lover Boy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years pass. It feels like forever. It gets to a point that the time with Deadpool becomes a faded memory, a mere dream, a fraction of a reality.
> 
> /Peter's time, after Wade leaves and how years suddenly passed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank everyone who has commented and left kudos and been generally very nice people.
> 
> I also wanna apologise for the lack of ... anything. I haven't felt the want to write and I fell out of love with the ship. But I went through my files a while ago and remembered this. And I wanted to give it the end I think it deserves.
> 
> So if anyone is still reading this, then here comes your conclusion! The total conclusion is within a few chapters reach, and they will be finished this time. So, stick around a little longer

Years pass. It feels like forever. It gets to a point that the time with Deadpool becomes a faded memory, a mere dream, a fraction of a reality.

Between juggling school, friends and Official Avenger Business, it’s pretty hard to think of people who left you. Without a word. Or like a note. Anything really.

So, does Peter sulk? Yeah, maybe in the first few months. But like, then a literal alien invasion happens and then something with how the government should control all hero business, and Peter is pretty confused about all that, and Spider-man goes on the shelf for like a month. When all that is over (kinda? Maybe it got transferred to another dimension? Who knows?), and Peter is back in spandex, but they are black now, and that’s pretty cool. Then Reed Richards tells him that it’s an alien symbiote and Johnny Storm laughs at him, but what else is new?

But things go really south when he loses contact with Harry for a month. Like the guy is the son of a billionaire – and former(?) supervillain – how do he just fall of the grit? But then he returns and seems totally fine, but has like a weird rash and a rash temperament. And suddenly there’s a new villain to fight in the streets of New York. And he’s just as crazy as the rest of Spider-man’s C-list villains, but somehow, it’s worse?

Peter is almost at the edge of full-on anxiety when he discovers the red tread that connects everything. How was he this blind? He should have known that something was wrong right from when Harry came back without the cornrows and looked like he hadn’t slept for days. Peter tries of course to help his friend, but it’s hard when your alter-ego is battling his alter-ego at the same time. And things just keep getting more and more complicated. And nothing is easy anymore, and, oh god, how has his life become this?

It all ends up with Spider-man facing off with the Green Goblin in and abandoned factory (like, what are all these abandoned factories doing around New York? Shouldn’t there be something in them?), and they are both bloodied and bruised and half of Peter’s costume is torn, and the mask is barely there anymore.

But then everything stills. One version of Peter sees everything crystal clear, sees the moment the door to the factory open, hears the sound of it creaking on its hinges, feels the surge of fresh air that rushes in. Another sees everything speeded up and everything feels like it’s happening at once. And suddenly The Green Goblin is clutching Gwen Stacy in his grasp, and Gwen is shouting Peter’s name. Peter doesn’t know who realizes what she did first, him, her or Harry, who suddenly appears underneath the face of the Green Goblin. The hatred, the denial, the anger, it’s all too much for Harry, and Peter sees in his eyes, the moment that Harry dies and the Green Goblin is all that is left.

Then things happen too fast, and Peter can’t to this day figure out which events leads to it, but suddenly he’s holding Gwen’s lifeless body in his arms. That moment stands crystal clear in his mind. Her blank expression, frozen and distant. Her hair falling across her face and a single droplet of blood drippling down from her lip. In the background, the memory of Harry’s broken breath makes it run coldly down his back. He broke his friend and watched his other friend die. And he can’t move. It hurts all over, but in that moment pain only exist in the form of heartache.

Peter has lost people before. Uncle Ben was the first and the one that hurt the most, and Peter could never let go of that one. Other heroes, which he considered friends, have fallen in the time he has been with the Avengers, but they didn’t know him. And though they were shocking and mortifying, they weren’t the same. They weren’t Uncle Ben. They weren’t Gwen Stacy.

(They weren’t Wade Wilson)

This is the first loss in years that hurts Peter to his core. And he almost falls off the grit after Gwen’s funeral (which he doesn’t go to) and after Harry has been committed to a mental rehabilitation facility.

He goes on more missions out of planet, missions with the Fantastic Four in the big an awesome galaxies that surround us. But they are a family, and Peter feels like his invading something he isn’t part of. Johnny promises that everyone wants him there with his arm slung over the shoulder of Medusa (whose hair is pretty freaky but also kinda cool?). But after he can’t come up with more excuses to Aunt May, for why he isn’t home yet from his impromptu “study trip across the sea”, he returns to Earth.

He’s 24. He’s growing a beard (almost, because it’s really just five-o-clock shadow that hasn’t gotten shaved … in a week). The year is 2018. He’s also taking part in the reprising of the emo culture (but not in a Spider-man 3, kinda way). And the suit is black again (but not in an alien way).

“So,” Aunt May starts.

“So?” Peter answers, not looking up from his phone. Selfie from Johnny, who’s currently circling the third moon of some distant planet and has somehow gotten a sunburn.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’s it all going?” She sounds worried. Peter has known her for long enough to know exactly when she’s trying to hide that she’s worried.

“You know,” but she doesn’t. And Peter isn’t going to try and explain it.

“Mhm,” she hums. She’s not pleased with the answer. Of course, she’s not. No one is ever really pleased with Peter these days. Can’t blame them really.

“Hey, Earth to Peter Parker,” May calls, shaking a hand in front of his face. He looks up, and briefly looks into her eyes, but then, regretting it and cursing old habits, he looks away. She looks older. More tired. Like she isn’t getting enough sleep. He feels the same way.

“Stop that,” he says irritably and brush her hand away, which is trying to stroke his cheek gently. He gets up and brushes past her.

“Peter!”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he lies. He goes into his old room, falls onto the bed and lies there. Thoughts swirling in his head, he clutches a pillow and curls into a ball. He hasn’t cried. Not since he lost her. He refuses to. If he does, he’ll have to face the facts, face the music and all that.

So, he lies there, and hours passes by. He doesn’t move and doesn’t open his eyes. He’s not sure when he drifted off to sleep, but he awakes suddenly when May sits down next to him on the bed. She’s facing away from him, holding a book in her hands.

At first, he’s annoyed that she didn’t respect his need for privacy. He wants to get up and scream at her, yell at her, let out the all the feelings that he’s got boiled up. But he supresses them. Instead he watches her. 

She flips through a couple of pages in the photo album, not a book he realizes, looking long at pictures that he can’t see from this angle.

For a moment he battles between being too stubborn to acknowledge her presence and the sense of curiosity. In the end, he heaves a sigh and sits up right. Looking down unto the pages of the photo album he finds his own freckled face starring up at him. But he’s younger, happier. He can barely recognise himself, his face so much softer and round with kid glasses askew on his nose.

“You’re about 3 years old here. Very bright even back then,” May says. Peter looks at her out of the corner of his eye to see a soft smile across her face. The worry from earlier seems to have melted away, and now there’s only the gentle and warm person that Peter grew up around.

He looks down at the glossy photos again. They are mostly photos of Peter, sometimes featuring Uncle Ben or Aunt May. A lot of them feature Peter sitting in dirt or in a mess of books. Lots of him sleeping on different surfaces.

“These,” she says and flips back to some of the first pages of the album, “were taken just after we took you in. You were about two years old.”

In these earlier photos Peter is barely able to recognise himself at all. He wouldn’t have known it was him if May hadn’t said so. This version of Peter is much smaller and much shyer. He barely looks into the camera in the photos and tiny Peter is rarely smiling. May flips through the pages, and the transformation gradually happens, and suddenly Peter is smiling and laughing at the camera and making eye contact. She flips a page, and they are back to the page Peter first looked at.

“This,” she says and flips to the next page, “is from your fourth birthday. Ah, look, you got cake smeared everywhere here!” She points to the picture, and surely enough, Peter is smeared in cake, and Peter can’t help but let out a short, quiet laugh at that.

“Oh, and here, you discovered your passion for dance. You and the radio became inseparable for a week because you just had to dance!” Peter’s laugh grows a little louder from the combination of tiny Peter in the photo, captured showing off a very complicated dance move and Aunt May trying to recreate the dance move.

“And here,” Aunt May says, turning the page, but then goes silent. Peter looks at her questioningly and then down at the page. Starring up at him is tiny Peter, but with a new companion who has a familiar glint in the eye, that Peter can’t place. May stays quiet, looking at the other boy in the picture. He has a mop of blond hair and is largely covered in Band-Aids and bruises.

“Oh, that poor boy,” May mutters. Her faces have turned solemn and she smiles sadly.

“Who was he?” Peter asks, taking the photo album from her and inspecting the other boy more closely. He flips to the next pages, seeing this other boy with Peter more frequently. They are captured doing several different activities together; drawing at the kitchen table, playing “The Floor is Lava” in the living room, fighting with homemade swords in the tiny backyard.

“He was our next-door-neighbour. You two became thick as thieves after spending just one day together and was inseparable afterwards.” May touches a finger to the other boy’s face for moment. Peter doesn’t understand the look on her face and he gently picks her hand up and wraps it in his own. May’s eyes go foggy for a moment but then she smiles wearily up at him.

“Poor kid. His father was a drunk and his poor mother was sick and weary. I feared … I think that the father beat them. Or at least the mother. But I had no evidence, nothing to prove my fear.” She looks down shamefully. Peter feels like he’s been slapped. He looks down at the boy, who can’t be more than 5, maybe younger, regarding the bruises on the boy in a different light.

“You were friends for 2 years, and every day I tried to shield that boy from his father. I can’t remember the number of sleepovers I arranged, to keep him out of that home.” May sighs deeply and then turns the page. These feature the boys flying kites and them hollowed up in bunkbeds in, what Peter assumes, is some kind of vacation cabin. 

“But then the family had to return to Canada. Something with the father’s visa which he never fixed. And the mother’s medical bills which only piled up and which they couldn’t pay here.” She sighs and flips the page again. The other boy is still in the pictures but he’s looking less and less happy, and the Band-Aids are covering more of him. Finally, May turns a page, and the other boy is gone. Peter starts flipping through it, but the other boy doesn’t appear again.

“Such a sweet boy,” May sighs and closes the photo album.

“Who was he?” Peter asks again, still in disbelief. Why can’t he remember any of this?

“Oh, I believe he’s name was Winston … Or was it Waldo? It was something with W I remember, because his surname was also something with W. What was it? Wheler? Warren?”

“Wade Wilson.”

“Yes! That’s it! Oh, sweetie, I knew you remembered. You two were so close.” May continues fuzzing and reminiscing, not noticing that Peter isn’t listening anymore.

Wade Wilson. Wade Winston Wilson. Wade-fricking-Wilson. A.K.A. Deadpool.

“Holy shi-”

“No swearing in this house, young man!”

“Holy poop.”


End file.
